— I love you, Jack.
— Don't you do that. Don't you say your good-byes. Not yet. Do you understand me?
— I'm so cold.
— Listen, Rose... you're gonna get out of here. You're gonna go on... and you're gonna make lots of babies. And you're gonna watch them grow. You're gonna die an old lady...warm in her bed. Not here. Not this night. Not like this. Do you understand me?