If Gold Rusts, What Then Can Iron

Certes, They Been Lye To Hounds, For An Hound When He Cometh By The Roses, Or By Other Bushes, Though He May Nat Pisse, Yet Wole He Heve Up His Leg And Make A Countenance To Pisse.

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.

This World Nys But A Thurghfare Ful Of Wo, And We Been Pilgrymes, Passynge To And Fro.

Thou Shalt Make Castels Thanne In Spayne And Dreme Of Joye, All But In Vayne.

People Can Die Of Mere Imagination.