One shouldn't be too inquisitive in life Either about God's secrets or one's wife.
In the stars is written the death of every man.
Woe to the cook whose sauce has no sting.
The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears.
If a man really loves a woman, of course he wouldn't marry her for the world if he were not quite sure that he was the best person she could possibly marry.
The handsome gifts that fate and nature lend us Most often are the very ones that end us.
Habit maketh no monk, ne wearing of gilt spurs maketh no knight.
In general, women desire to rule over their husbands and lovers, to be the authority above them.
Remember in the forms of speech comes change Within a thousand years, and words that then Were well esteemed, seem foolish now and strange; And yet they spake them so, time and again, And thrived in love as well as any men; And so to win their loves in sundry days, In sundry lands there are as many ways.
And so it is in politics, dear brother, Each for himself alone, there is no other.
With empty hand no man can lure a hawk.
Death is the end of every worldly pain.
In April the sweet showers fall And pierce the drought of March to the root, and all The veins are bathed in liquor of such power As brings about the engendering of the flower.
For tyme ylost may nought recovered be.
How potent is the fancy! People are so impressionable, they can die of imagination.
Look up on high, and thank the God of all.
If were not foolish young, were foolish old.
First he wrought, and afterwards he taught.
Who looks at me, beholdeth sorrows all, All pain, all torture, woe and all distress; I have no need on other harms to call, As anguish, languor, cruel bitterness, Discomfort, dread, and madness more and less; Methinks from heaven above the tears must rain In pity for my harsh and cruel pain.
. . . if gold rust, what then will iron do?/ For if a priest be foul in whom we trust/ No wonder that a common man should rust. . . .
I wol yow telle, as was me taught also, The foure spirites and the bodies sevene, By ordre, as ofte I herde my lord hem nevene. The firste spirit quiksilver called is, The second orpiment, the thridde, ywis, Sal armoniak, and the firthe brimstoon. The bodies sevene eek, lo! hem heer anoon: Sol gold is, and Luna silver we threpe, Mars yron, Mercurie quiksilver we clepe, Saturnus leed, and Jupiter is tin, And Venus coper, by my fader kin!
Men love newfangleness.
If gold rusts, what then can iron do?
Trouthe is the hyest thyng that man may kepe.
Lat take a cat, and fostre him wel with milk, And tendre flesh, and make his couche of silk, And let him seen a mous go by the wal; Anon he weyveth milk, and flesh, and al, And every deyntee that is in that hous, Swich appetyt hath he to ete a mous.
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