Sue: I don’t give a shit about that man.
Emily: Then why did you sleep with him? And why, why did you keep telling me to give him my poems?
Sue: Because I couldn’t handle the things your poems made me feel. Your poems are too powerful. They’re like snakes. They slither into me, and they coil around my heart, and they squeeze me until I can’t breathe. They are flittering and venomous, and they bite. I got scared, Emily. Of you, of the way that you grip me, of the way that you poison me. When I married Austin, and we became sisters, the only bond between us was your words. You started writing so much, and I was the only one who ever saw any of it. I got overwhelmed, so I thought if I pushed you a little…
Emily: If you pushed me away, I’d become someone else’s problem? Well, guess what? I’m not your problem anymore, Sue. You can go back to your perfect parlor with your fancy dresses and be as exquisitely empty as you like, because I will never make you feel anything again. And without me…
Sue: What?
Emily: Without me, I don’t think you know how to have feelings.