One would always want to think of oneself as being on the side of love, ready to recognize it and wish it well –but, when confronted with it in others, one so often resented it, questioned its true nature, secretly dismissed the particular instance as folly or promiscuity. Was it merely jealousy, or a reluctance to admit so noble and enviable a sentiment in anyone but oneself?
– Hazzard, Shirley
