“Beloved, don't fret that you gave yourself so quickly!Believe me, I don't think badly or wrongly of you.The arrows of Love are various: some scratch us,And our hearts suffer for years from their slow poison.But others strong-feathered with freshly sharpened pointsPierce to the marrow, and quickly inflame the blood.In the heroic ages, when gods and goddesses loved,Desire followed a look, and joy followed desire.”

Source: Wikiquote