Quotes from William Langland

A fair feeld ful of folk fond I ther bitwene -Of alle manere of men, the meene and the riche,Werchynge and wandrynge as the world asketh.

In a summer season when soft was the sun.

A fair field full of folk found I there.

Who will bell the cat?

There smites nothing so sharp, nor smelleth so sour as shame.

And what a tree took away a tree shall restore

In a somer seson whan soft was the sonne I shope me in shroudes as I a shepe were, In habite as an heremite vnholy of workes, Went wyde in þis worlde wondres to here.

whoso wilneth hire to wif, for welthe of hire goodes but he be knowe for a cokewold, kut of my nose!

detraction. He made his living by slander and

But all the wickedness in the world which man may do or think is no more to the mercy of God than a live coal dropped in the sea.

Like father, like son: every good tree maketh good fruits.