Jack Dawson Quotes

A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets. But now you know there was a man named Jack Dawson and that he saved me...in every way that a person can be saved. I don’t even have a picture of him. He exists now...only in my memory.

You're so stupid, Rose! - Jack Dawson

Well, yes, ma'am, I do... I mean, I got everything I need right here with me. I got air in my lungs, a few blank sheets of paper. I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what's gonna happen or, who I'm gonna meet, where I'm gonna wind up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge and now here I am on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you fine people. I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You don't know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you... to make each day count.

...And now you know there was a man named Jack Dawson and that he saved me, in every way that a person can be saved.

I got everything I need right here with me; air in my lungs, a few blank sheets of paper.

You will never overcome yourself if you always excuse yourself.

Every girl wants her very own Jack Dawson.

Stop jacking with me, Dad. All I ever wanted was the truth.” “That’s the problem. People think if they can add up all the facts, they’ll end up with the truth, but that’s like sewin’ body parts together in the hopes you’ll get a man.

I used to think I was the broken one and that the world owed me something because it was whole. But everybody’s broken, Druce. And they make everything so complicated.

I saw disillusionment. I saw pain, bitterness, anger--all things I understood very well. But then I saw what was underneath all that. Those were just layers; they weren't the heart of who you are.

A Scotch half-breed took charge of him and his mates, and in company with a dozen other dog-teams he started back over the weary trail to Dawson. It was no light running now, nor record time, but heavy toil each day, with a heavy load behind; for this was the mail train,

I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what’s gonna happen or, who I’m gonna meet, where I’m gonna wind up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge and now here I am on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you fine people. I figure life’s a gift and I don’t intend on wasting it. You don’t know what hand you’re gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you… to make each day count.

This is the house where they found Jack dead. This is the room of the house where they found Jack dead. This is the floor in the room of the house where they found Jack dead. This is the wall, splattered in red, standing next to the floor, in the room of the house where they found Jack dead. This is the door leading into the tomb. This is the wall splattered in red, standing next to the floor in the room of the house where they found Jack dead. This is the clock hanging over the door. This is the wall splattered in red standing next to the floor in the room in the room of the house where they found Jack dead. This is the bird coming out of the clock hanging over the door in the wall by the floor in the room of the house where they found Jack dead. This is the song in the heart of the bird coming out of the clock hanging over the door in the wall by the floor in the room of the house where they found Jack dead. These are the words to the song of the bird coming out of the clock hanging over the door in the wall by the floor in the room of the house where they found Jack dead. This is the man who sits in the cell. Eleven years have come and gone. Jack is dead, but he lives on. He waits in silence, but he still can hear. The ancient song echoes in his ears. The sound of time with its tick tick TOCK! The song of the bird coming out of the clock, hanging over a door leading into a tomb, where there stand four walls splattered all in red, and a floor where a good man fell and bled, in the room of the house where they found Jack dead. These are the words of the cuckoo’s song, as he asks us who will right these wrongs. The cuckoo sings and the cuckoo wails, for the dead who cannot tell their tales. Rage all you want, but at close of day, justice is mine, and I will repay.

Seven days from the time they pulled into Dawson, they dropped down the steep bank by the Barracks to the Yukon Trail, and pulled for Dyea and Salt Water. Perrault was carrying despatches if anything more urgent than those he had brought in; also, the travel pride had gripped him, and he purposed to make the record trip of the year. Several things favored him in this. The week's rest had recuperated the dogs and put them in thorough trim. The trail they had broken into the country was packed hard by later journeyers. And further, the police had arranged in two or three places deposits of grub for dog and man, and he was travelling light.

Do you know why you have this crew, Druce? Do you know why we’re all here? It’s not because you always choose to look out for number one, and insulate yourself from the difficult decisions. It’s the opposite. You have never backed down from doing what’s right, no matter what the cost. And you can’t back down now just because it cost you more than you thought.

All the same, we'll go on to Dawson." He uncoiled his whip. "Get up there, Buck! Hi! Get up there! Mush on!" Thornton went on whittling. It was idle, he knew, to get between a fool and his folly; while two or three fools more or less would not alter the scheme of things. But the team did not get up at the command. It had long since passed into the stage where blows were required to rouse it. The whip flashed out, here and there, on its merciless errands. John Thornton compressed his lips. Sol-leks was the first to crawl to his feet. Teek followed. Joe came next, yelping with pain. Pike made painful efforts. Twice he fell over, when half up, and on the third attempt managed to rise. Buck made no effort. He lay quietly where he had fallen. The lash bit into him again and again, but he neither whined nor struggled. Several times Thornton started, as though to speak, but changed his mind. A moisture came into his eyes, and, as the whipping continued, he arose and

He leaned down and kissed her stomach, her hip bones, while his big hands held her in place. Then his mouth was on her, covering her, licking over her clit. She arched up, crying out as his tongue slid over her folds, making her mindless and crazy. She clutched the pillow, burying her head into the softness as he sucked and licked, nipping over her skin. She clamped her thighs around his head. Whimpered. He was going to drive her right over the edge. His tongue lapped over her clit. "Jack, stop," she said, her voice harsh and panting. "I'm going to... God... No... I want..." He didn't stop. Didn't ease up. He just pushed her harder. His tongue. It was magic. The condom packet slid off her stomach as she planted her feet and rocked into him. Giving up, surrendering to his will and determination. Everything that made Jack, Jack. She coiled tight and then she exploded. She bit her lip, stifling her moans as she rode out wave after wave of delicious sensation. She couldn't think, couldn't put together a sentence, but then he was on her, over her. His palm on her neck, his fingers on her jaw, twisting her face to meet his. His mouth covered hers. He tasted like sex. And lust. His grasp was tight on her jaw, and the way he kissed her, devoured her, sucked her right back under. It was a raw, dirty kiss that consumed her. Her fingers came up to where he held her, and she dug her nails into his wrists. He growled against her lips, biting her, sucking. And the kiss went on and on and on. He finally pulled away, grabbed the condom, and tore open the package. He tossed it onto her body again, ridding himself of his sweats, and then he was naked. And she could only gape at him. Her gaze wide. He had the best cock she'd ever seen in her life. Long and thick. A work of goddamn art. She reached for him, but he grabbed her wrist, shaking his head. "I can't wait, Chlo." He picked up the condom, threw the packet on the floor somewhere and rolled the condom down his hard shaft. She breathed out his name. "Jack." He leaned down, kissing her again, soft and sweet. His erection nudged between her legs. "Just let me inside.

I know that you were trained to analyze date, file it, categorize it, and make decisions...but people can't be put in a box. Sometimes there are bad things in a relationship--that doesn't mean the relationship is bad.

Everything that comes out of your mouth reveals something about yourself. Many use sarcasm as a coping mechanism, but it reveals your weakness to others.

They went at it. Their mouths a frantic, searching quest. As though they were trying to make up for thirty years of longing in this one kiss. He bit her lower lip and she raked her nails down his back. They tumbled to the bed, and his body was finally, deliciously covering hers. She arched. He surged. They rocked. She dug her nails into the base of his back. His hand came up to cup her breast, his thumb stroking over the nipple. She cried out, and he caught the sound with his lips. He ripped away from her, slid down her body, and captured her nipple with his lips, while his free hand snaked down into her yoga pants. He licked at the hard bud. Sucked. Her hips arched off the bed as he tugged harder and harder. When his teeth scraped over her oversensitive flesh, she keened and she couldn't stop the words from falling from her lips. "Jack. God. Jack. Yes. More." He groaned, the sound vibrating over her skin. He pulled her deeper into his mouth. His fingers slid down her waistband and into her panties. Her legs parted. His fingers brushed her clit. She bowed off the bed. He circled the bundle of nerves and lifted his head. "So damn wet." She could feel how wet she was, how slippery. "More." He pushed one long finger inside her, and kissed her, brushing his mouth over her lips. "You feel like heaven." She arched into his touch as his thumb relentlessly circled her clit. Around and around. Over and over. Until she thought she'd go mad with sheer need. "Jack. Please." He plunged two fingers inside her, hooking on a spot so good she lost focus. "Please what, Chlo?" His voice, oh God, his voice. Achingly familiar and yet strange all at once. He swiped over her flesh and she keened again as her body tightened. "Stop." Her head rolled back. "I'm going to come." He increased his pressure and whispered against the shell of her ear, "Then come.

Light is massless, immaterial and doesn’t experience space and time. Scientists agree that light exists.” Paul: “But surely light is in space and time. We can turn on a light, and there it is, in space and time. No?” Jack: “It’s an optical illusion. The mathematics of photons don’t lie. Light isn’t in spacetime. Spacetime is in light. Light isn’t moving through spacetime. Spacetime is moving through light. Matter moves through mind, just as a dream moves through the mind of the dreamer, and the mind of the dreamer does not move through the dream

Jack." "Last name?" "Let's leave it at Jack," he said. "Unfortunately, the online form insists on a last name before it will allow me to move to the next page." I held up the tablet to show him the screen. "How about Jack Spratt? Jack Frost? Jack Sparrow? Jack Horner? Do you have a beanstalk? Do you kill giants? Have you built a house? Are you nimble?" "How about something not fantasy-based?" With a soft chuckle, he moved closer to study the screen. "Jack Dawson? Jack Skellington?" I tried to ignore the heat of his body, the warm breath across my cheek. "Jack-Jack Parr? Jack Torrance? Jack Pearson? Jack Reacher? Jack Ryan?" His laughter, deep and rich, filled the room. "You know your Jacks." "I like movies. I'll watch anything so long as I'm not watching it alone. Sharing snarky comments is all part of the fun." "I think doing anything with you would be fun." His smile made me smile. I couldn't stop it. Were we flirting? Was that a flirting smile? Was I flirting with a thief?

I would never let it happen," Druce said. "And if you really are trapped inside your own mind, fabricating some sort of reality, then you have to trust me all the more. Because I am the one who will fight hardest for you when you cannot fight for yourself.

I really like Maddie.” “I can see that,” he said, for lack of anything better. “She’s wonderful.” Charlotte looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have made it through this ordeal without her.” “She’s got that way about her.” Mitch propped a hip on the counter. She cleared her throat. “You’re different with her.” “I’m different. Period.” He was trying to make it clear that she didn’t know jack shit about him. She

Most people choose obstacles they can handle and they steer their lives around everything else. You could probably do that if you wanted to, but it would turn you into a very different person. Life never gets easier…people choose the easy way out.

To the left was the earth, hanging on a whisper. Even though the blue was being swallowed up and the green had long faded to congested brown and gray, the whisper spoke of foaming seas under a salty breeze, long crispy stalks of bamboo swaying to the rhythm of an invisible heartbeat. And beyond that heartbeat—beyond the mold that had crept up to choke that heartbeat swirled a desperate black stillness, pierced by diamond daggers and a frothing star called the sun.

Every other detail of the room was equally as extravagant, including the carefully selected guest list. Men and women in brilliant gowns and crisp tuxedos milled about indolently as if they expected to be preserved in amber and put in a museum for the edification of future generations.

Back in the days when she was commander of the station, she had longed for the pull of real gravity, the kiss of the wind, and the tickle of the sun. She never would have guessed then that she’d be so eager to launch into space again.

They had slid in between half a dozen asteroids before they reached their intended target—a monstrous rock that must be a mile in diameter. And there, sprawled upon its back was a series of orange and gray structures, oddly uniform in their eclectic nature.

Cries and gasps went up around the room. Logan’s heart seemed to explode in her chest, and moisture sprang to her eyes, threatening to drown her from the inside out. But her training kicked in. She sat rigid as a statue. The only sign that her world had just been ripped apart was the slight tremor in her hand.

Something struck the surface of the planet behind them, knocking them all off their feet. A ghastly shriek pierced the thin atmosphere, sending an unfamiliar dread to the very core of Logan’s being. She scrambled to her feet alongside the others and resumed running.

We don’t have nightmares, Fin. We live them. They just become more vivid at night. Ask Bailey. Ask her if she doesn’t see the ghosts hiding around corners every day.

I think you thrive on the tip of the knife. At the edge of chaos. You process chaos very well, but that makes you a bit chaotic. And most people are intimidated by that.

I felt kind of bad for them. They didn’t know what they were getting into. If you’re going to put a bounty on my head, you’d better put a warning label with it. Anything less is irresponsible.

We cling to one another like Rose and Jack Dawson should’ve done on the floating door out at sea.