Quote

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.

Catullus

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Catullus
Poet
Writer
Gaius Valerius Catullus
Best
Account
Matter
Accounts
Mind
Lows
Like
Loving
Couldn
Already
Claudia
Stop
Wrecked
Women
Sunk

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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 love. And why, perhaps you’ll ask. I don’t know: but I feel, and I’m tormented.
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Oh, this age! How tasteless and ill bred it is!
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Every one has his faults: but we do not see the wallet on our own backs.
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Away with you, water, destruction of wine!
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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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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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There is nothing more silly than a silly laugh.
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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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Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then a thousand more.
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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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Brother, hello and good-bye. Frater, ave atque vale
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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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Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love. Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus
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My lady's sparrow is dead, the sparrow which was my lady's delight
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It is difficult to suddenly give up a long love. Difficile est longum subito deponere amorem
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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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There is nothing more foolish than a foolish laugh. Risu inepto res ineptior nulla est
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Nothing is more silly than silly laughter.
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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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