Dr. Alice Howland: When I was, um, a little girl, like, in second grade, my teacher told me butterflies don't live a long time. They live, like, a month. And I was so upset, and I went home, and I told my mother, and she said: "Yeah, but, you know, they have a nice life. They have a really beautiful life." So now it always makes me think about my mother's life, and my sister's life. And to a certain extent, you know, my own.
Lydia Howland: But this isn't fair.
Dr. Alice Howland: I don't have to be fair. I'm your mother.
Dr. Alice Howland: You may say that this falls into the great academic tradition of knowing more and more about less and less until we know everything about nothing.
Dr. Alice Howland: I used to be someone who knew a lot. No one asks for my opinion or advice anymore. I miss that. I used to be curious and independent and confident. I miss being sure of things. There's no peace in being unsure of everything all the time. I miss doing everything easily. I miss being a part of what's happening. I miss feeling wanted. I miss my life and my family.
Lydia Howland: You can't use your situation to just get me to do everything you want me to do.
Dr. Alice Howland: Why can't I?
Lydia Howland: Because that's not fair.
Dr. Alice Howland: I don't have to be fair. I'm your mother.
