All is lost. Monks, monks, monks!

I beseech you now with all my heart definitely to let me know your whole mind as to the love between us.

All is lost! Monks, Monks, Monks! So, now all is gone - Empire, Body, and Soul!.

Hops are a wicked and pernicious weed.

Two beheadings out of six wives is too many.

Alas, how can the poor souls live in Concord when you preachers sow amongst them in your sermons debate and discord? They look to you for light and you bring them darkness. Amend these crimes, I exhort you, and set forth God's word truly, both by true preaching and giving a good example, or else, I, whom God has appointed his vicar and high minister here, will see these divisions extinct, and these enormities corrected...

We be informed by our judges that we at no time stand so highly in our estate royal as in the time of Parliament, wherein we as head and you as members are conjoined and knit together into one body politic, so as whatsoever offence or injury (during that time) is offered to the meanest member of the House is to be judged as done against our person and the whole Court of Parliament.