Sally Nash: We're fine! We're great! We're having a baby and we're moving to London!
Sophia Gold: Well you weren't fine when you went all Sylvia Plath on me last summer in Connecticut!
Sally Nash: Not nice! Not kind!
Sophia Gold: Ha! Not half so "not kind" as your husband was in his depiction of you in his novel!
Sally Nash: Why are you doing this?
Sophia Gold: Sally! His image of you is a possessive, fragile neurotic!
Sally Nash: But I *am* a possessive, fragile neurotic!
Sophia Gold: No you are not! You are Sally Nash! You are Sally Nash, and you're my best friend for twenty years. And you're not going to move to London to have the offspring of some sexually ambivalent man-child, oh-now-I'm-a-writer-now-I'm-a-f***ing-director, English prick bastard Joe Therrian! He's probably going to leave you for Skye Davidson anyway!
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