If Love Be Good, From Whence Cometh

We Little Know The Things For Which We Pray.

Habit Maketh No Monk, Ne Wearing Of Gilt Spurs Maketh No Knight.

Pitee Renneth Soone In Gentil Herte.

The Handsome Gifts That Fate And Nature Lend Us Most Often Are The Very Ones That End Us.

Fo Lo, The Gentil Kind Of The Lioun! For When A Flye Offendeth Him Or Byteth, He With His Tayl Awey The Flye Smyteth Al Esily, For, Of His Genterye, Him Deyneth Net To Wreke Him On A Flye, As Cloth A Curre Or Elles Another Beste.