"You must know," said Estella, condescending to me as a beautiful woman might, "that I have no heart- if that has anything to do with my memory." I got through some jargon to the effect that I took the liberty of doubting that. That I knew better. That there could be no such beauty without it. "Oh! I have a heart to be stabbed in or shot in, I have no doubt," said Estella, "and, of course, if it ceased to beat I should cease to be. But you know what I mean. I have no softness there, no -- sympathy -- sentiment -- nonsense." from Great Expectations by Charles Dickens