The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just and charitable war.
My heart is ever at your service.
The plants look up to heaven, from whence they have their nourishment.
My crown is in my heart, not on my head; not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, nor to be seen: my crown is called content, a crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.
My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
Their manners are more gentle, kind, than of Our human generation you shall find.