I Pray To God That I Shall

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

I Am No Lover Of Pompous Title, But Only Desire That My Name May Be Recorded In A Line Or Two, Which Shall Briefly Express My Name, My Virginity, The Years Of My Reign, The Reformation Of Religion Under It, And My Preservation Of Peace.

If Thy Heart Fails Thee, Climb Not At All.

I Do Not So Much Rejoice That God Hath Made Me To Be A Queen, As To Be A Queen Over So Thankful A People. Therefore I Have Cause To Wish Nothing More Than To Content The Subject And That Is A Duty Which I Owe. Neither Do I Desire To Live Longer Days Than I May See Your Prosperity And That Is My Only Desire.

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.