Dickinson Season 2 Episode 4: "The Daisy follows soft the Sun" Quotes
Maggie: What’s the matter dear?
Emily: I can’t write.
Maggie: Oh blimey, I never thought I’d hear you say that.
Emily: Ever since I gave him one of my poems.
Maggie: Gave you?
Emily: Mr. Bowles. Two weeks ago I submitted. Ugh, that’s an awful word. Submission, like he controls me, like he’s my master.
Maggie: Some people get a kick out that sort of thing.
Lavinia: It’s not working.
Ship: Just give me a second.
Lavinia: It’s like not doing anything.
Ship: Maybe that’s because we shouldn’t even be doing this.
Lavinia: What do you mean? You’re not enjoying yourself?
Ship: No I am enjoying myself. I’m enjoying myself too much. It shouldn’t be like this. It’s totally improper.
Ship: No, I’m trying to follow etiquette, do it the polite way, but every time I try to give you a simple kiss on the hand, you push me back into bed. I don’t know. Honestly, I’m starting to feel kind of used.
Lavinia: Excuse me?
Ship: I hate it when women make me feel like this. Like they just want me for my body.
Emily: Dad, this is the man who is designing the great park in the center of New York City. Mr. Olmsted, the park sounds amazing. I wonder what you’re going to call it.
Frederick Law Olmsted: Oh, I’m thinking Central Park.
Emily: Perfect, that’s perfect.
Edward: Well, that’s good. Not great.
Frederick Law Olmsted: Oh no.
Emily: What is it?
Frederick Law Olmsted: This rosebush is a disaster.
Emily: What’s the matter with this rosebush?
Frederick Law Olmsted: Answer me honestly, could you sit beside this rosebush with a sense of peace?
Frederick Law Olmsted: Maybe’s not good enough. No, the bush will have to go.
Emily: Wait a minute, wait, let me just try it.
Frederick Law Olmsted: Tell me, could you sit beside this bush with a book and feel totally unintruded upon by the world? Could you feel yourself healing from the abuses of our deafening urban lives? I’ll wait as long as you need.
Emily: Gotta be honest, it’s a no.
Frederick Law Olmsted: The bush goes.
But I’m in a hole.Edward
Austin: I’ve got amazing news.
Sue: What is it?
Austin: Clara and Ana Neuman, my adorable little cousins, they’re going to come and live with us, here at the Evergreens. Isn’t that wonderful?
Sue: What are you talking about?
Austin: I’m talking about making a home for these poor children. You can adopt cousins, can’t you?
Sue: Austin, you didn’t even ask me. I don’t want them here.
Austin: Sue, they’ve got nowhere to go. They’re orphans, homeless, like you were before you became a Dickinson.
Sue: Just what I want: Two living breathing reminders of my terrible past.
Austin: Sue, have a heart.
Sue: Why do you want them here?
Austin: Because I want a child.
Austin: I want a child, and I promised you I would never ask you to have one, so this is a chance for me to be a father to these girls and keep my promise to you. So I think you owe it to me to be excited about it.
Sue: Well, it sounds like you’ve made your mind up. I guess it’s settled.
Edward: Oh, you found me. Oh thank heavens.
Mrs. Dickinson: You fell in the hole.
Edward: I know that. I’m in the hole.
Mrs. Dickinson: It’s been three weeks, Edward.
Edward: Well, I’ve been busy.
Mrs. Dickinson: Well, I’m tired of you being busy. Our children are all grown up now. This is the time we’re supposed to rediscover the passionate days of our youth. The days it wasn’t just the cattle show. It was Christmas and Easter too. Do you remember how adventurous we used to be? That time we conceived Lavinia in the middle of the day. Or that time we put a new quilt on our bed and pretended we were in a hotel.
Edward: You looked beautiful on that quilt.
Mrs. Dickinson: Why don’t we do that anymore?
Edward: What can I say? We got old.
Emily: Uh, I don’t know. Lost is how I feel now when I sit down to write. All I see is a blank piece of paper staring back at me.
Frederick Law Olmsted: Well, that doesn’t sound like being lost. That sounds like being all too aware of yourself and the noisy world around you. I’m talking about being so focused on something that you disappear into it. You lose track of time and space and people. It’s just you and your flow. Surely, you’ve experienced that.
Emily: I have, but I don’t anymore.
Frederick Law Olmsted: Then you need to get lost, totally lost.
Ship: Well, what do you think, babe?
Lavinia: You defaced my parent’s property.
Ship: I know. I forgot a girl needs to feel totally blindsided by a wild prank in order to commit to a marriage.
Lavinia: I literally thought I was being kidnapped.
Ship: So it worked, and now you can’t possibly say no to me, not in front of all these people.
Frederick Law Olmsted: You feel like you can write again?
Emily: No, it’s an editor. I gave my poem to him, and now it’s like holds my life in his hands, like I’m the daisy, and he’s the son, and without the warmth of his approval, I can’t grow.
Frederick Law Olmsted: Well, that’s not good. Opinion is a flitting thing. It’s a hideous distraction from the beauty of your craft.
Emily: OK, then maybe I shouldn’t try to have an audience at all. Maybe fame is dangerous. I mean I gave one poem to one man, and now I have writer’s block.
Frederick Law Olmsted: The audience is irrelevant. The work itself is the gift, not the praise for it. Understand that, and you’ll understand true mastery.
Emily: You’re right. I know you’re right, but how do I do that?
Frederick Law Olmsted: Simple. Refuse to be the daisy and start being the sun.
Emily [to sun]: Hey, you here that? I’m not your daisy anymore.
Emily: I was so scared. It’s like my whole brain was taken over by one thought: Whether or not you would like my poem.
Sam: You don’t have to be scared. I have great news for you.
Emily: You do?
Sam: I read your poem, and it’s brilliant. It’s incredible. I’m going to publish it. I’m going to publish you, my little daisy.