“Well, my dear, take heart. Some day, I will kiss you and you will like it. But not now, so I beg you not to be too impatient.”

“Forgive me for startling you with the impetuosity of my sentiments, my dear Scarlett—I mean, my dear Mrs. Kennedy. It cannot have escaped your notice that for some time past the friendship I have had in my heart for you has ripened into a deeper feeling, a feeling more beautiful, more pure, more sacred. Dare I name it you? Ah! It is love which makes me so bold!”

“No, my dear, I'm not in love with you, no more than you are with me, and if I were, you would be the last person I'd ever tell. God help the man who ever really loves you. You'd break his heart, my darling, cruel, destructive little cat who is so careless and confident she doesn't even trouble to sheathe her claws.”

“I wish I could care what you do or where you go but I can't... My dear, I don't give a damn.”

“But, Ashley, what are you afraid of?''Oh, nameless things. Things which sound very silly when they areput into words. Mostly of having life suddenly become too real, ofbeing brought into personal, too personal, contact with some of thesimple facts of life. It isn't that I mind splitting logs here inthe mud, but I do mind what it stands for. I do mind, very much,the loss of the beauty of the old life I loved. Scarlett, beforethe war, life was beautiful. There was a glamor to it, aperfection and a completeness and a symmetry to it like Grecianart. Maybe it wasn't so to everyone. I know that now. But to me,living at Twelve Oaks, there was a real beauty to living. Ibelonged in that life. I was a part of it. And now it is gone andI am out of place in this new life, and I am afraid. Now, I knowthat in the old days it was a shadow show I watched. I avoidedeverything which was not shadowy, people and situations which weretoo real, too vital. I resented their intrusion.”

“I want to make you faint. I will make you faint. You've had this coming to you for years. None of the fools you've known have kissed you like this - have they? Your precious Charles or Frank or your stupid Ashley... I said your stupid Ashley. Gentlemen all - what do they know about women? What do they know about you? I know you.”

“You're so brutal to those who love you, Scarlett. You take their love and hold it over their heads like a whip.”