— I only know that I love you!
— That's your misfortune.
Similar Quote:
— Rose... you're no picnic. All right? You're a spoiled little brat even. But under that, you're the most amazingly, astounding... wonderful girl, woman, that I've ever known. No, let me try and get this out. I'm not an idiot. I know how the world works. I've got ten bucks in my pocket. I have nothing to offer you and I know that. I understand. But I'm too involved now. You jump, I jump. Remember? I can't turn away without knowing you'll be all right. That's all that I want.
— Well, I'm fine. I'll be fine. Really.
— Really? I don't think so. They've got you trapped, Rose. And you're gonna die if you don't break free. Maybe not right away, because you're strong, but sooner or later that fire that I love about you, Rose... that fire is gonna burn out.
— It's not up to you to save me, Jack.
— You're right. Only you can do that.
Don't say you love me unless you really mean it, because I might do something crazy like believe it.
And apologies, once postponed, became harder and harder to make, and finally impossible.
Telling the truth's just the beginning. Owning it's the hard part.
There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution.
It was a confession. Now that I have made it, something seems to have gone out of me. Perhaps one should never put one's worship into words.