... all that that I learn just teaches me that I know nothing.

Oh yes. Draw your hem back from my mud, little sister.

Tell my daughter Elizabeth -- no! Tell all my daughters, everywhere, in all the ages yet to come. Tell them how I died, and why. And tell them to remember this: the future is unwritten. Know your rights.

For he loved her and he understood that a woman cannot always live as a man. He understood that she cannot always think as he thought, walk as he walked, breathe the air that he took in. She would always be a different being from him, listening to a different music, hearing a different sound, familiar with a different element.

But young hearts mend easily, and hearts that own half of England have something better to do than to beat faster for love.

You can smile when your heart is breaking because you're a woman.

It is not love that matters, Mistress Boy, it is what you choose to do with it. What’d you choose to do with yours?