" Are you too hurting, Filinna? You too sick,
wasting away with sleepless eyes? Or
is your sleep the sweetest possible, no thought
of me, no reckoning, no consideration?
The same thing will strike you some day, miserable girl,
and I'll watch the tears go tumbling down your cheeks.
The goddess of love, always malicious, has one virtue:
she really hates a pompous prude. "

― Agathias Scholasticus