Charlotte: My mom always says God doesn't give with both hands. You're young, beautiful, brilliant. There has to be something you can't have. Amelia: Some days I'd give that all up. Charlotte: That's just the craving talking. The longer you go without a drink... Amelia: I drank at your wedding. I thought it was ginger ale. I spit it out. Charlotte: OK, since then? Amelia: Nothing, but I can't stop thinking about it. Charlotte: It was an accident. Don't let a slip turn into a fall. Get your butt to a meeting.
You ever been violated? Anybody rape you lately? Let me tell you what its like. You know those made for TV movies where some woman's crouched down naked in a shower holding her knees and sobbing because when she closes her eyes she can still feel the guys hands on her? How when they show the attack the woman's eyes go all blank and still and she goes to some other place in her mind just to deal with the horror of what's happening to her while some Lillith Fair song plays. It is nothing like that. He's sturdy and sweaty and he licks your face and wipes himself off in your hair and when you try to scream he punches you so hard you see God. And then he goes at you again reaping stuff you didn't even know you had because he enjoyed it so much the first time. I know you're trying to help but if helping me means that everyone is gonna be looking at me the way you're looking at me now please do not help me.