I Find That I Sent Wolves Not

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.

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.

There Is An Italian Proverb Which Saith, From My Enemy Let Me Defend Myself; But From A Pretensed Friend Lord Deliver Me

I Regret The Unhappiness Of Princes Who Are Slaves To Forms And Fettered By Caution.

I Know I Have The Body Of A Weak And Feeble Woman, But I Have The Heart And Stomach Of A King, And Of A King Of England Too.