Sydney: What the hell do you think you're
doing?
Rosalyn: What do I think I'm doing? What the fuck do you think you're doing? You're going to come in here and judge
me for flirting with someone else when you've been fucking my husband for how
many years?
Sydney: You don't have any fucking clue what's going on!
Rosalyn: I have a ring on my finger. We have a child together!
Sydney: He doesn't love you, Rosalyn. He loves
me. And you know it, and I know it, and he knows it. And it might be done now, but it was beautiful, and it was real...
Rosalyn: Stop it.
Sydney: -and we loved each other.
Rosalyn: Shut up.
Sydney: You scare him, and you manipulate him, and you use your son!
Rosalyn: Well, he must like it on some level. He must want it, because he keeps coming back for it.
It's like that perfume that you love, that you can't stop smelling even when
there's something sour in it. Can't get enough of it. Well guess what? He's never gonna leave
me. He's always going to want me, and I will make you so sorry, Edith. I will make you so sorry for what you've done to my family. Mark my
words!
Sydney: That is fucked up! I would never say anything that fucked up to
anybody, but you do because you're gross inside. You're so fucked up and gross.
Rosalyn: Oh, I'm gross inside?
Sydney: Yeah!
Rosalyn: Maybe you're gross inside. What, robbing people and all that shit that
you do? Maybe we're both gross inside. That's what Irving loves about us. At least he's consistent. You know, sometimes in life, all you
have are fucked up, poisonous choices.
American Hustle (2013) by David O. Russell
