Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord But you're gonna have to serve somebody.
Bob Dylan, Gotta Serve Somebody, Joshua 24:15
St. Padre Pio is known to say “The rosary is the weapon (against Satan)!” The greeting itself "Hail, Mary" is enunciated not by a mere mortal but a very high angel of God addressed to the Mother of God at the moment of the Incarnation of God! How more efficacious could it get? It’s no wonder Satan hates it since he gets “pummeled” by these words about the promise of his defeat over and over again. Also, I think the repetition becomes a conduit for the graces of the Incarnation to fill up our souls and our system as we ourselves get into this Mystery as well. No wonder so many great saints love this prayer so much and at the same time so hard to say!
And, once I also asked Satan, 'but why are you more scared when I invoke Our Lady than when I invoke Jesus Christ?' He answered me, Because I am more humiliated to be defeated by a human creature than being defeated by him.'
Fr. Amorth, Chief Vatican Exorcist http://www.ewtn.com/vnews/getstory.asp?number=113374
The Aristocrat (1912) by G. K. Chesterton; H/T Mike Miles
The Devil is a gentleman, and asks you down to stay At his little place at What'sitsname (it isn't far away). They say the sport is splendid; there is always something new, And fairy scenes, and fearful feats that none but he can do; He can shoot the feathered cherubs if they fly on the estate, Or fish for Father Neptune with the mermaids for a bait; He scaled amid the staggering stars that precipice, the sky, And blew his trumpet above heaven, and got by mastery The starry crown of God Himself, and shoved it on the shelf; But the Devil is a gentleman, and doesn't brag himself. O blind your eyes and break your heart and hack your hand away, And lose your love and shave your head; but do not go to stay At the little place in What'sitsname where folks are rich and clever; The golden and the goodly house, where things grow worse for ever; There are things you need not know of, though you live and die in vain, There are souls more sick of pleasure than you are sick of pain; There is a game of April Fool that's played behind its door, Where the fool remains for ever and the April comes no more, Where the splendour of the daylight grows drearier than the dark, And life droops like a vulture that once was such a lark: And that is the Blue Devil that once was the Blue Bird; For the Devil is a gentleman, and doesn't keep his word.