Quotes from Thomas Chatterton

How shall we celebrate the day,When God appeared in mortal clay,The mark of worldly scorn;When the Archangel's heavenly Lays,Attempted the Redeemer's Praise,And hail'd Salvation's Morn!

There is a time for all things - except marriage, my dear.

Haste to thie kiste, thie onlie dortoure bedde.Cale, as the claie whiche will gre on thie hedde,Is Charitie and Love aminge highe elves;Knightis and Barons live for pleasure and themselves.

Happy (if mortals can be) is the man,Who, not by priest but Reason, rules his span:Reason, to its possessor a sure guide,Reason, a thorn in Revelation's side.

Mie love ys dedde,Gon to hys death-bedde,Al under the wyllowe-tree.

Faygne woulde I curse thee further, botte mie tyngue Denies mie harte the favoure soe toe doe.