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So many heads so many wits.
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All thing is the woorse for the wearing.
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A woman hath nine lives like a cat.
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She looketh as butter would not melt in her mouth.
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Thrée maie a kepe counsayle, if two be away.
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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.
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All is fish that comth to net.
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No man ought to looke a given horse in the mouth.
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Cut my cote after my cloth.
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Leape out of the frying pan into the fyre.
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Ye set circumquaques to make me beleue Or thinke, that the moone is made of gréene chéese.
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Beggars should be no choosers.
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Children and fooles cannot lye.
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This hitteth the nayle on the hed.
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There is no fyre without some smoke.
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The grey mare is the better horse.
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Burnt child fire dredth.
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He that will not whan he may, Whan he would, he shall haue nay.
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Men say, kinde will creepe where it may not goe.
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One good turne asketh another.
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Small pitchers have wyde eares.
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Who hopeth in Gods helpe, his helpe can not starte: Nothing is impossible to a willyng hart, And will maie wyn my herte, herein to consent, To take all thinges as it cometh, and be content.