I Observe And Remain Silent.

One Man With A Head On His Shoulders Is Worth A Dozen Without.

Though God Hath Raised Me High, Yet This I Count The Glory Of My Crown: That I Have Reigned With Your Loves.

I Plucke Up The Goodlie Greene Herbes Of Sentences By Pruning, Eat Them By Reading, Chawe Them By Musing, And Laie Them Up At Length In The Hie Seate Of Memorie By Gathering Them Together; That I, Having Tasted The Sweetenes, L May The Lesse Perceave The Bitternes Of This Miserable Life.

If I Follow The Inclination Of My Nature, It Is This: Beggar-woman And Single, Far Rather Than Queen And Married.

A Clear And Innocent Conscience Fears Nothing.