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

Catullus

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Catullus
Poet
Writer
Gaius Valerius Catullus
Hundred
Thousand
Give
Giving
Kisses
Valentine
Kissing

More quotes by Catullus

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Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love. Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus
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I hate and love. And why, perhaps you’ll ask. I don’t know: but I feel, and I’m tormented.
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I can imagine no greater misfortune for a cultured people than to see in the hands of the rulers not only the civil, but also the religious power.
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Godlike the man who sits at her side, who watches and catches that laughter which (softly) tears me to tatters: nothing is left of me, each time I see her.
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We see not our own backs.
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My mind's sunk so low, Claudia, because of you, wrecked itself on your account so bad already, that I couldn't like you if you were the best of women, -or stop loving you, no matter what you do.
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I hate and love. You ask, perhaps, how can that be? I know not, but I feel the agony.
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Nothing is more silly than silly laughter.
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What woman says to fond lover should be written on air or the swift water. [Lat., Mulier cupido quod dicit amanti, In vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua.]
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Brother, hello and good-bye. Frater, ave atque vale
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It is difficult to suddenly give up a long love. Difficile est longum subito deponere amorem
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So a maiden, whilst she remains untouched, so long is she dear to her own when she has lost her chaste flower with sullied body, she remains neither lovely to boys nor dear to girls.
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I hate and I love. And if you ask me how, I do not know: I only feel it, and I am torn in two.
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What a woman says to an eager lover, write it on running water, write it on air.
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To whom do I give my new elegant little book? Cui dono lepidum novum libellum?
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I hate and I love. Perchance you ask why I do that. I know not, but I feel that I do and I am tortured. [Lat., Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, fortasse requiris. Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.]
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Who now travels that dark path from whose bourne they say no one returns. [Lat., Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum Illue unde negant redire quemquam.]
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It is difficult to lay aside a confirmed passion.
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For the godly poet must be chaste himself, but there is no need for his verses to be so.
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Oh, this age! How tasteless and ill bred it is!
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