"Love comes to the bosom under the gentle forms of esteem, of sympathy, of confidence: we listen with dangerous pleasure to the seducing accents of his voice, till he lifts the fatal veil which concealed him from our view, and reigns a tyrant in the soul. Reason is then an oracle no longer consulted; and happiness, often life itself, become his victims."
— Williams, Helen Maria (1759-1827)
(I.x, pp. 116-7)