Ha! For A Divine And Lordly Manor,

Row On [whatever Happens]. [lat., Vogue La Galere.]

Thought I To Myself, We Shall Never Come Off Scot-free.

For God, Nothing Is Impossible. And, If He Wanted, In The Future Women Would Give Birth From Their Ears.

Wait A Second While I Take A Swig Off This Bottle: It's My True And Only Helicon, My Caballine Fount, My Sole Enthusiasm. Here, Drinking, I Deliberate, I Reason, I Resolve And Conclude. After The Epilogue I Laugh, I Write, I Compose, I Drink. Ennius Drinking Would Write, Writing Would Drink.

I Won't Undertake War Until I Have Tried All The Arts And Means Of Peace.