Reaching your head with the cold, sudden fury of a divine messenger.

Or as the great Marsilio Ficino put it:

Amor chaos comitatur, praecedit mundum, torpentia suscitat, obscura illuminat, vivificat mortuas, format informia, perficit imperfecta.

Which, when vulgarized, becomes:

Love walks along with chaos, precedes the world, wakes the sleeping, lights the dark, gives life to the dead, forms the formless, and perfects the imperfect.