“Mine first --mine last-- mine even in the grave!”

“You're mine," "Not his. Mine. Only mine. Always mine.”

“Mine. He was mine, and not even death would take him from me—not if I could help it.”

“No. I don't care if I'm not the first." His head tilts and his lips move within a whisper of mine. "As long as I'm the last.”

“We've dug our holes and hallowed caves Put goblin foes in shallow graves This day our work is just begun In the mines where silver rivers runBeneath the stone the metal gleams Torches shine on silver streams Beyond the eyes of he spying sun In the mines where silver rivers runThe hammers chime on Mithral pure As dwarven mines in days of yore A craftsman's work is never done In the mines where silver rivers runTo dwarven gods we sing or praise Put another orc in a shallow grave We know our work has just began In the mines where silver rivers run”

“Seal'd her minefrom her first sweet breathMine, and mine by right, from birth till deathMine, mine-our fathers have sworn.”