I hate the twaddle talk of love, whether it's about myself or about anyone else. It makes me feel ashamed of my sex, when I find out that I cannot talk of myself to another woman without being supposed to be either in love or thinking of love, -- either looking for it or avoiding it. When it comes, if it comes prosperously, it's a very good thing. But I, for one, can do without it, and I feel myself injured when such a state of things is presumed to be impossible.

The Belton Estate