Catullus

Away with you, water, destruction of wine!

— Catullus

I hate and I love, and who can tell me why?

— Catullus

The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted from us the gracious favor of the gods.

— Catullus

Ah, what is more blessed than to put cares away, when the mind lays by its burden, and tired with labor of…

— Catullus

I hate and love. And why, perhaps you’ll ask. I don’t know: but I feel, and I’m tormented.

— Catullus

“O furum optime balneariorum Vibenni pater et cineadi fili (nam dextra pater inquinatiore, culo filius est voraciore), cur non exilium malasque in…

— Catullus

Stop wishing to merit anyone's gratitude or thinking that anyone can become grateful.

— Catullus

It is difficult to suddenly give up a long love. Difficile est longum subito deponere amorem

— Catullus

“I hate and I love. Why do I do this, you may ask? I do not know, but I feel it, and…

— Catullus

“I hate & love. And if you should ask how I can do both, I couldn't say; but I feel it, and…

— Catullus

Oh, this age! How tasteless and ill bred it is!

— Catullus

Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love. Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus

— Catullus

To whom do I give my new elegant little book? Cui dono lepidum novum libellum?

— Catullus

I hate and I love. Perchance you ask why I do that. I know not, but I feel that I do and…

— Catullus

What woman says to fond lover should be written on air or the swift water. [Lat., Mulier cupido quod dicit amanti, In…

— Catullus

What a woman says to her avid lover should be written in wind and running water.

— Catullus

“Atque in perpetuum, frater, ave atque vale.”

— Catullus

Now Spring restores the balmy heat, now Zephyr's sweet breezes calm the rage of the equinoctial sky.

— Catullus

“Odi et amo; quare fortasse requiris, nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior. (my translation: I hate and I love, you ask why…

— Catullus

What a woman says to an eager lover, write it on running water, write it on air.

— Catullus

It is difficult to lay aside a confirmed passion.

— Catullus

I write of youth, of love, and have access by these to sing of cleanly wantonness.

— Catullus

Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then a thousand more.

— Catullus

What women say to lovers, you'll agree, One writes on running water or on air.

— Catullus

I hate and love. You ask, perhaps, how can that be? I know not, but I feel the agony.

— Catullus