Queen Elizabeth could have married a hundred times over if she had wished.

I know I lost my head there completely." "That shows, Sir Walter," said Dryden, with a grin, "how wrong you are.
You lost your head to King James.

Hi! Shakespeare, here's a man doesn't know who chopped his head off." Raleigh's face flushed scarlet.

"'Tis better to have had a head and lost it," he cried, "than never to have had a head at all! Mark you, Dryden, my boy, it ill befits you to scoff at me for my misfortune, for dust thou art, and to dust thou hast returned, if word from t'other side about thy books and that which in and on them lies be true." "Whate'er be said about my books," said Dryden, angrily, "be they read or be they not, 'tis mine they are, and none there be who dare dispute their authorship." "Thus proving that men, thank Heaven, are still sane," ejaculated Doctor Johnson.

"To assume the authorship of Dryden would be not so much a claim, my friend, as a confession." "Shades of the mighty Chow!" cried Confucius.