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Two heddis are better then one.
John Heywood
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She looketh as butter would not melt in her mouth.
John Heywood
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Reckeners without their host must recken twice.
John Heywood
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Cut my cote after my cloth.
John Heywood
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I know on which side my bread is buttred.
John Heywood
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All thing is the woorse for the wearing.
John Heywood
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New brome swepth cleene.
John Heywood
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Children learne to creepe ere they can learne to goe.
John Heywood
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The loss of wealth is loss of dirt, as sages in all times assert; The happy man's without a shirt.
John Heywood
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This hitteth the nayle on the hed.
John Heywood
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And while I at length debate and beate the bushe, There shall steppe in other men, and catche the burdes, And by long time lost in many vayne wurdes.
John Heywood
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So many heads so many wits.
John Heywood
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Burnt child fire dredth.
John Heywood
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To hold with the hare and run with the hound.
John Heywood
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You stand in your owne light.
John Heywood
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A woman hath nine lives like a cat.
John Heywood
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No man ought to looke a given horse in the mouth.
John Heywood
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Leape out of the frying pan into the fyre.
John Heywood
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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 as it were sealed with butter.
John Heywood
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All is fish that comth to net.
John Heywood
