Rose DeWitt Bukater Quotes

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Rose: It was everything. It was my whole world and all the people in it. And the inertia of my life, plunging ahead and me powerless to stop it. I feel I'm standing in the middle of a crowded room screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up.

Rose: Look. I know what you must be thinking. Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?

Jack: No. No, that's not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was what could have happened to this girl to make her think she had no way out?

(Cal gives Rose The Heart of the Ocean necklace...)

Rose: It's overwhelming.

Cal: Well, it's for royalty. We are royalty, Rose. You know, there's nothing I couldn't give you. There's nothing I'd deny you if you would not deny me. Open your heart to me, Rose.

(After Jack saves Rose...)

Archibald Gracie: Perhaps a little something for the boy?

Cal: Of course. Mr. Lovejoy, I think a 20 should do it.

Rose: Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?

(Rose is getting ready to jump off the ship...)

Rose: Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me.

Jack: Well, you would have done it already.

Rose: You're distracting me. Go away.

Jack: I can't. I'm involved now. You let go, and I'm going to have to jump in there after you.

Rose: I saw my whole life as if I'd already lived it. An endless parade of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches. Always the same narrow people, the same mindless chatter. I felt like I was standing at a great precipice with no one to pull me back. No one who cared or even noticed.

Molly Brown: Hey, who thought of the name Titanic? Was it you, Bruce?

J. Bruce Ismay: Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength.

Rose: Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. lsmay? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you.

(Molly and Andrews almost laugh out loud)

(Rose talks about the paintings she brought on board...)

Rose: They're fascinating. Like being inside a dream or something. There's truth but no logic.

Trudy: What's the artist's name?

Rose: Something Picasso.

Cal (laughs): Something Picasso. He won't amount to a thing. He won't, trust me. At least they were cheap.

Cal: God, not those finger paintings again. They certainly were a waste of money.

Rose: The difference between Cal's taste in art... and mine is that I have some.

Rose: It was the ship of dreams... to everyone else. To me, it was a slave ship taking me back to America in chains. Outwardly, I was everything a well brought up girl should be. Inside, I was screaming.

Rose: Titanic was called the ship of dreams. And it was. It really was.

(Rose is looking at her old handheld mirror, that was fished out of Titanic...)

Rose: This was mine. How extraordinary. And it looks the same as it did the last time I saw it. (looks in the mirror) The reflection has changed a bit.

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