Mercy Surpasses Justice.

Soun Is Noght But Air Ybroken, And Every Speche That Is Spoken, Loud Or Privee, Foul Or Fair, In His Substaunce Is But Air; For As Flaumbe Is But Lighted Smoke, Right So Soun Is Air Ybroke.

The Guilty Think All Talk Is Of Themselves.

In Love There Is But Little Rest.

Forbid Us Something, And That Thing We Desire.

The Gretteste Clerkes Been Noght Wisest Men.