Take my handkerchief, Scarlett. Never, at any crisis of your life, have I known you to have a handkerchief.
Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect.
God help the man who ever really loves you.
If he's forgotten me, I'll make him remember me. I'll make him want me again.
I do not write with ease, nor am I ever pleased with anything I write. And so I rewrite.
what will the South be like without all our fine boys? What would the South have been if they had lived?