The Victor Is Not Victorious

Let No One Pay Me Honor With Tears, Nor Celebrate My Funeral Rites With Weeping.

The Roman State Stands By Ancient Customs, And Its Manhood.

Let No One Honour Me With Tears, Or Bury Me With Lamentation. Why? Because I Fly Hither And Thither, Living In The Mouths Of Me. [lat., Nemo Me Lacrymis Decoret, Nec Funera Fletu. Faxit Cur? Volito Vivu' Per Ora Virum.]

Let No One Weep For Me, Or Celebrate My Funeral With Mourning; For I Still Live, As I Pass To And Fro Through The Mouths Of Men.

I Never Indulge In Rhyme Or Stanza Unless I'm In Bed With The Influenza.