A Fool Too Late Bewares When All

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

I Have Never Been Able To Be So Allured By The Prospect Of Advantages Or So Terrified By Misfortunes, Swayed By Honours Or Fettered By Affection, Nay Not Even So Smitten By The Fear Of Death, As To Enter Upon Marriage.

Fear Not, We Are Of The Nature Of The Lion, And Cannot Descend To The Destruction Of Mice And Such Small Beasts.

When We Hang On To Resentments, We Poison Ourselves. As Compulsive Overeaters, We Cannot Afford Resentment, Since It Exacerbates Our Disease.

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