"Therfore, for to speke of the horrible sweryng of the Sowdan, and of the horrible cursedness of his lyf, I holde it nat pertinent to my tale."

"He knew the cause of every maladye, / Were it of hoot, or coold, or moyste, or drye, / And where engendred, and of what humour."

"For though the grettest clerkes han it sworen, That ther is no felicitee in mariage, Ne no felicitee but in his lyf, That lyveth out of swich servage."

"For hooly chirche's right is to be fed, / Or elles wolde he have his breed of whete, / And of the flour of his owene seed, / And of his corn a very large meel."

"Now, good men, God forgive you your trespass, and keep you from the Sin of avarice! Mine holy pardons will save you, if you do give me gold or silver, or else brooches, spoons or rings"