Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil is rightwise king born of all england. — Thomas Malory
The month of may was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit. — Thomas Malory
For, as I suppose, no man in this world hath lived better than I have done, to achieve that I have done. — Thomas Malory
For as well as I have loved thee heretofore, mine heart will not serve now to see thee — Thomas Malory
And much more am I sorrier for my good knights’ loss than for the loss of my fair queen — Thomas Malory