God Forgive You, But I Never Can.

God Has Given Such Brave Soldiers To This Crown That, If They Do Not Frighten Our Neighbours, At Least They Prevent Us From Being Frightened By Them.

Had I Been Crested, Not Cloven, My Lords, You Had Not Treated Me Thus.

The End Crowneth The Work.

My Mortal Foe Can No Ways Wish Me A Greater Harm Than England's Hate; Neither Should Death Be Less Welcome Unto Me Than Such A Mishap Betide Me.

Words Are Leaves, The Substance Consists Of Deeds, Which Are The True Fruits Of A Good Tree.