John Heywood

A short horse is soone currid.

Now for good lucke, cast an old shooe after me.

Cut my cote after my cloth.

A day after the faire.

We both be at our wittes end.

I perfectly feele even at my fingers end.

No man ought to looke a given horse in the mouth.

Better to give then to take.

Let the world wagge, and take mine ease in myne Inne.

The wise man sayth, store is no sore.

Feare may force a man to cast beyond the moone.

More frayd then hurt.

God never sends th' mouth but he sendeth meat.

This hitteth the nayle on the hed.

Though ye loue not to bye the pyg in the poke, Yet snatche ye at the poke, that the pyg is in, Not for the poke, but the pyg good chepe to wyn.

Praie and shifte eche one for him selfe, as he can. Euery man for him selfe, and god for us all.

Wolde ye bothe eate your cake, and haue your cake?

For whan I gaue you an ynche, ye tooke an ell.

An yll wynde that blowth no man to good.

What man, loue me, loue me dog.

Yes yes (quoth she) for all those wyse woordis vttred, I know on which syde my bread is buttred. But there will no butter cleaue on my breade. And on my bread any butter to be spreade. Euery promise that thou therin dost vtter, Is as sure …

Ye set circumquaques to make me beleue Or thinke, that the moone is made of gréene chéese.

It is better to be An olde mans derlyng, than a yong mans werlyng.

Set the cart before the hors.