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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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Chaste Herself Lost Maid Sex Women

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

I hate and love. You ask, perhaps, how can that be? I know not, but I feel the agony.
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Agony Feeling Hate Love Myself
Stop wishing to merit anyone’s gratitude or thinking that anyone can become grateful.
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There is nothing more silly than a silly laugh.
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What women say to lovers, you’ll agree, One writes on running water or on air.
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Every one has his faults: but we do not see the wallet on our own backs.
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I write of youth, of love, and have access by these to sing of cleanly wantonness.
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Now Spring restores the balmy heat, now Zephyr’s sweet breezes calm the rage of the equinoctial sky.
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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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It is difficult to lay aside a confirmed passion.
CATULLUS

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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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We see not our own backs.
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Away with you, water, destruction of wine!
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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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My lady’s sparrow is dead, the sparrow which was my lady’s delight
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But you shall not escape my iambics.
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Oh, this age! How tasteless and ill bred it is!
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Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then a thousand more.
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The vows that woman makes to her fond lover are only fit to be written on air or on the swiftly passing stream.
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The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted from us the gracious favor of the gods.
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Angry Favor God Right Wild Wrong

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