– You’re all flops. I am the Earth Mother, and you are all flops. I disgust me. You know, there’s only been one man in my whole life who’s ever made me happy. You know that? One.
– What, the gym instructor or something?
– No, no, no, no. George. My husband?
– You’re kidding.
– Am I?
– You must be! Him?
– Yep.
– George, sure!
– You don’t believe it.
– Well, of course I do!
– You always deal in appearances?
– Oh, for God’s sake.
– George, who is out somewhere there in the dark. Who is good to me. Whom I revile. Who can keep learning the games we play as quickly as I can change them. Who can make me happy and I do not wish to be happy. Yes, I do wish to be happy. George and Martha — sad, sad, sad. Whom I will not forgive for having come to rest, for having seen me and having said, «Yes, this will do». Who has made the hideous, the hurting, the insulting mistake of loving… me. And must be punished for it. George and Martha — sad, sad, sad. Some day, hah! Some night, some stupid, liquor-ridden night, I will go too far and I’ll either break the man’s back or I’ll push him off for good which is what I deserve.
(Elizabeth Taylor and George Segal in «Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?» by Mike Nichols, 1966)
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