Yet do not miss the moral, my good men. For Saint Paul says that all that’s written well Is written down some useful truth to tell. Then take the wheat and let the chaff lie still.

Men sholde nat knowe of Goddes pryvetee Ye, blessed be alwey, a lewed man That noght but oonly his believe kan! So ferde another clerk with astromye, He walked in the feelds, for to prye Upon the sterres, what ther sholde bifalle, Til he was in a marle-pit yfalle.

Fie on possession, But if a man be vertuous withal.

There's never a new fashion but it's old.

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

Full wise is he that can himselven knowe.

Habit maketh no monk, ne wearing of gilt spurs maketh no knight.