Emily: Mr. Bowles, I have decided with much agonizing and struggle that I do not in fact wish to be published. Therefore, I request that… No, no, I demand that you give me back my poems.
Sam: Emily, your poem was a hit. You’re about to become world famous overnight. People love the one we published, and they’re already begging for more.
Emily: That’s a lie. Some people didn’t love it. I heard them.
Sam: No, it’s not. It’s better than that. It got under their skin. It made them think. It made them ask questions. It was provocative. It got reactions, which is all you can ever hope for as a writer. Emily, I’m telling you, you’re on your way to becoming the biggest poet in New England, possibly America, and I’m trying to help you stop getting in your own way.
Emily: The only thing getting in my way right now is you.
Sam: Ouch, that hurts.
Emily: Give me back my poems.
Sam: My newspaper empire, it is expanding, and you can be a part of that. Don’t you wanna help build an empire?
Emily: I had an empire. It was right up here, and then you stole it from me. You and Sue.