Grief Never Ends, But It

Monarchs Ought To Put To Death The Authors And Instigators Of War, As Their Sworn Enemies And As Dangers To Their States.

I Have The Heart Of A Man, Not A Woman, And I Am Not Afraid Of Anything.

Much Suspected By Me, Nothing Proved Can Be

If Our Web Be Framed With Rotten Handles, When Our Loom Is Well Nigh Done, Our Work Is New To Begin. God Send The Weaver True Prentices Again, And Let Them Be Denizens.

[on Thomas Seymour's Death:] This Day Died A Man Of Much Wit And Very Little Judgment.