“I have a huge and savage conscience that won't let me get away with things.”

“It ain't that you get religion. Religion gets you and then milks you dry. Won't let you drink a little whiskey. Won't let you make no fat-assed girls grin and giggle. Won't let you do a damn thing except work for what you'll get in the hearafter. I live in the here and now.”

“I won't mistake you for problems with me. I won't let my moods ruin this you'll see. I won't take everything good and move it away. I won't be left dancing along to songs from the past.”

“Leave me alone, let me have at least one night when I don't cry myself to sleep with eyes burning and my head pounding. Let me get away, away from everything, away from this world!”

“You either trust me or you don't. I've never let you down, and I won't walk away unless you make me. Period. Now, unless you have a real emergency, I'd like to get back to my vacation. And my corpse, thanks.”

“No, I won't let you go, Marcus thought fiercely. He was conscious of a savage urge to carry Arabella far away from here, captive, in his sole possession, until she finally agreed to wed him and give him her heart.”