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

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

Away with you, water, destruction of wine!

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

For the godly poet must be chaste himself, but there is no need for his verses to be so.

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

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