George Bernard Shaw,
Love Among the Artists — Book I, Chapter XIII
(1881)
“ Mary, much puzzled, put on her spectacles, and tried to find from his expression whether he was serious or joking. Failing, she laughed, and said, "I don't believe you ever gave the matter a thought." "Just so. I am a privileged mortal, without heart or pockets. When you wake up and clap your hands after the coda of Mr Jack's symphony, you have ministered to all his wants, and can keep the rest to yourself, love, money, and all." ”
