Jack and Rose were drifting in the black water. Jack clutched the piece of wood where Ruth was lying.
Rose: It's getting quiet.
Jack: It's going to take'em a couple of minutes to get the boats organized.. I don't know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all this.
Rose: I love you, Jack.
Jack: No... Don't you do that. Don't say your good-byes. Not yet. Do you understand me?
Rose: I'm so cold.
Jack: Listen, Rose. You're going to get out of here. You're going to go on and you're going to make lots of babies and you're going to watch them grow and you're going to die an old lady, warm in your bed. Not here. Not this night. Not like this. Do you understand me?
Rose: I can't feel my body.