Rhett: I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’ll never understand or forgive myself. And if a bullet gets me, so help me, I’ll laugh at myself for being an idiot. There’s one thing I do know … and that is that I love you, Scarlett. In spite of you and me and the whole silly world going to pieces around us, I love you. Because we’re alike - bad lots, both of us. Selfish and shrewd, but able to look things in the eye and call them by their right names.
Scarlett: Don’t hold me like that!
Rhett: Scarlett! Look at me! I’ve loved you more than I’ve ever loved any woman, and I’ve waited for you longer than I’ve ever waited for any woman.
Scarlett: Let me alone!
Rhett: Here’s a soldier of the South who loves you, Scarlett; wants to feel your arms around him, wants to carry the memory of your kisses into battle with him. Never mind about loving me - you’re a woman sending a soldier to his death with a beautiful memory. Scarlett! Kiss me! Kiss me … once.