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.

A love grown old is not the love once new.

Hyt is not al golde that glareth.

In general, women desire to rule over their husbands and lovers, to be the authority above them.

In the stars is written the death of every man.

If gold rusts, what then can iron do?

Who then may trust the dice, at Fortune's throw?