Girls, if you want a little bit more Southern charm in your romance, take a cue from Scarlett and Rhett, whose kiss is overwhelming and passionate and feisty, and everything we love about being in love. And boys, take a cue from Rhett, because just because the South won't rise again, doesn't mean you won't.
There's one thing I do know, and that is, I love you, Scarlett. In spite of you and me and this whole silly world going to pieces around us, I love you, because we're alike. Bad lots to both of us, selfish and shrewd, but able to look things in the eyes and call them by their right name.
Don't hold me like that.
Scarlett, look at me. I love you more than I've loved any woman. And I've waited longer for you than I've waited for any woman.
Let me alone.
Here's a solider of the South who loves you, Scarlett. Who wants to feel your arms around him, who wants to take the memory of your kisses into battle with him. Never mind about loving me. You're a woman sending this soldier to his death with a beautiful memory. Scarlett, kiss me. Kiss me once.
You low-down, cowardly, nasty thing, you! Everyone was right, everyone was right, you aren't a gentleman.
A minor point in such a moment.