Ruth: What’s going on? You waltz in here after 20 years, insulting my cooking, getting drunk with my boyfriend, filling my daughter’s head with all kinds of ideas, and reminding my sons of traumatic events in their lives!
Sarah: Jesus Christ, the boy was gonna lose his virginity sooner or later, and Fiona is a great woman, very compassionate…
Ruth: He was molested!
Sarah: He was a horny 15 year old who couldn’t believe his good luck.
Ruth: Of course I shouldn’t be surprised that you won’t take any responsibility, you never have.
Sarah: Okay, that’s what this is about!
Ruth: When mother died, someone had to step up. Someone had to take care of Nanny, but you just did as you pleased.
Sarah: You never let anybody help you. God forbid anything should interfere with you feeling sorry for yourself!
Ruth: If that’s what you need to believe to justify your own selfishness.
Sarah: What do you want me to say, Ruth?
Ruth: I want you to apologize!
Sarah: Fine. I apologize! Does that make it any better?
Ruth: No! Because you had more fun than I did!
Sarah: Fun? The only man I ever loved died when I was 21. The children I so desperately wanted were impossible, because my ovaries are dry as stone. And I’m a terrible artist, but I surround myself with people who have talent that I will never realize. It’s all hard, Ruth. We just made different choices.
Ruth: I’m sorry. I didn’t know about the ovaries.
