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.

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

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

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

There is nothing more foolish than a foolish laugh. Risu inepto res ineptior nulla est

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

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