For Tyme Ylost May Nought Recovered Be.

That Field Hath Eyen, And The Wood Hath Ears.

My House Is Small, But You Are Learned Men And By Your Arguments Can Make A Place Twenty Foot Broad As Infinite As Space.

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.

Filth And Old Age, I'm Sure You Will Agree, Are Powerful Wardens Upon Chastity.

Of Alle The Floures In The Mede, Than Love I Most These Floures Whyte And Rede, Swiche As Men Callen Daysies In Our Toun. . . . . Til That Myn Herte Dye. . . . . That Wel By Reson Men Hit Calle May The 'dayesye' Or Elles The 'ye Of Day,' The Emperice And Flour Of Floures Alle. I Pray To God That Faire Mot She Falle, And Alle That Loven Floures, For Hir Sake!