Jack: Where To, Miss? Rose:

I Had Read Tons Of Science Fiction. I Was Fascinated By Other Worlds, Other Environments. For Me, It Was Fantasy, But It Was Not Fantasy In The Sense Of Pure Escapism.

Hate Is A Disease, And In 1930 I Became Sick With Hatred.

Old Rose: It's Been 84 Years, And I Can Still Smell The Fresh Paint. The China Had Never Been Used. The Sheets Had Never Been Slept In. Titanic Was Called The Ship Of Dreams, And It Was. It Really Was.

It's Really The Sense Of Isolation, More Than Anything, Realizing How Tiny You Are Down In This Big Vast Black Unknown And Unexplored Place.

James Cameron Doesn't Do What James Cameron Does For James Cameron. James Cameron Does What James Cameron Does Because James Cameron Is... James Cameron.