I believe that there is a great fear in our generation of being labeled as priggish.

1992 is not a year I shall look back on with undiluted pleasure. In the words of one of my more sympathetic correspondents, it hasturned out to be an Annus Horribilis.

To what greater inspiration and counsel can we turn than to the imperishable truth to be found in this treasure house, the Bible?

I don’t like to badmouth people. But I’m the head of a monarchy that began in the ninth century, and I’m apparently more modern than Chris Christie. Look, I know he has to appeal to the crazy right-wingers in his party, but the fact is, he’s not as forward-thinking as an eighty-seven-year-old lady who wears a crown on her head. It’s pathetic.

I myself prefer my New Zealand eggs for breakfast.

I declare before you all that my whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great imperial family to which we all belong.

It is as queen of Canada that I am here. Queen of Canada and all Canadians, not just one or two ancestral strains.