“The arguments, the discussions were the great thing: the love-making and connection were only a sort of primitive reversion and a bit of an anticlimax. One was less in love with the boy afterwards, and a little inclined to hate him, as if he had trespassed on one’s privacy and inner freedom. For, of course, being a girl, one’s whole dignity and meaning in life consisted of the achievement of an absolute, a perfect, a pure and noble freedom. What else did a girl’s life mean?”

— D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley’s Lover (which ranked #7 on my 20 Best Books I Read in 2009)