Elizabeth I

Perhaps life is like an hour glass, with dear ones the sand that slips from the upper glass--the earth--into the second--eternity.

I was ever the realist, sometimes to my sorrow. But seldom to my regret.

One always imagines that the days that change one’s life must be marked with something extraordinary in nature—storms and lightning, darkness at noon, and so on. In truth they are indistinguishable from any other, which is one reason we feel mocked, as if the world is telling us we are inconsequential.

Our minds see things that our eyes cannot. I suppose something continues to exist until the mind that sees it no longer exists.

In Lisbon, a street cry gloated over the Spanish defeat: Which ships got home? The ones the English missed. And where are the rest? The waves will tell you. What happened to them? It is said they are lost. Do we know their names? They know them in London. Oh,

I did not worry about what a man or woman personally believed, but the nation's official religion should be outwardly practiced by all its citizens. A religion was a political statement. Being a Calvinist, a papist, a Presbyterian, an Anglican labeled a person's philosophy on education, taxes, poor relief, and other secular things. The nation needed an accepted position on such concerns. Hence the fines for not outwardly conforming to the national church.

There are two kinds of tales: one accurate but not true, the other true but not accurate.

War is a sinkhole that sucks money and men into it and is never filled.

When thoughts flee and words are inadequate, music can act as timely balm.

—Yo sólo juego a ser inconstante —dije por fin—. Por dentro soy una roca. Siempre leal, siempre firme. Pero un poco de juego es la sal de la vida y mantiene a raya a mis enemigos.