"Love - Eros - makes his home in men's hearts, but not
in every heart, for where the is hardness he departs.
...he cannot do wrong...For all men serve him of their
own free will. And he whom Love touches not
walks in darkness."
"Evil is his heart, but honey-sweet his tongue.
No truth in him, the rogue. He is cruel in his play.
Small are his hands, yet his arrows fly far as death.
Tiny his shaft, but it carries heaven-high.
Touch not his treacherous gifts, they are dipped in fire."