Reading a biography of Jane Seymour, Henry VIII's third wife, and growing a little tired of the pains the biographer is taking to assure me that poor doomed Jane was not a great beauty. She was fine! Stop picking on her, she's going to be dead in a hundred pages or so anyway.
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What a great reason to kill one's wife: "In May 1536 Henry had only been without a living ex-wife for five months and he was in no mood to provide himself with another one, regardless of how much he wanted to marry Jane."