I did not believe that I was going to die.

I knew--I say I _knew_--that I was not going to die.

My head was swimming, and my heart was pounding from my toenails to the hair-roots in my scalp.
"That's pretty tight," Captain Jamie urged reluctantly.
"The hell it is," said Doctor Jackson.

"I tell you nothing can hurt him.
He's a wooz.

He ought to have been dead long ago." Warden Atherton, after a hard struggle, managed to insert his forefinger between the lacing and my back.