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There's no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.

Geoffrey Chaucer

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Geoffrey Chaucer
Died: 1400
Died: October 25
Astrologer
Linguist
Lyricist
Philosopher
Poet
Politician
Translator
Writer
London
England
Chaucer
Geoffrey Chaucer
Whatsoever
Literature
May
Wells
Well
Work
Hastily
Workman
Workmen

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Trouthe is the hyest thyng that man may kepe.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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The bisy larke, messager of day.
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Fo lo, the gentil kind of the lioun! For when a flye offendeth him or byteth, He with his tayl awey the flye smyteth Al esily, for, of his genterye, Him deyneth net to wreke him on a flye, As cloth a curre or elles another beste.
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And so it is in politics, dear brother, Each for himself alone, there is no other.
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Patience is a conquering virtue. The learned say that, if it not desert you, It vanquishes what force can never reach Why answer back at every angry speech? No, learn forbearance or, I'll tell you what, You will be taught it, whether you will or not.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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In April the sweet showers fall And pierce the drought of March to the root, and all The veins are bathed in liquor of such power As brings about the engendering of the flower.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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For of fortunes sharp adversitee The worst kynde of infortune is this, A man to han ben in prosperitee, And it remembren, whan it passed is.
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He who accepts his poverty unhurt I'd say is rich although he lacked a shirt. But truly poor are they who whine and fret and covet what they cannot hope to get.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Murder will out, this my conclusion.
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The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Thus with hir fader for a certeyn space Dwelleth this flour of wyfly pacience, That neither by hir wordes ne hir face Biforn the folk, ne eek in her absence, Ne shewed she that hir was doon offence.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote The droghte of March hath perced to the roote.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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All good things must come to an end.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Who looks at me, beholdeth sorrows all, All pain, all torture, woe and all distress I have no need on other harms to call, As anguish, languor, cruel bitterness, Discomfort, dread, and madness more and less Methinks from heaven above the tears must rain In pity for my harsh and cruel pain.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Look up on high, and thank the God of all.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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A whetstone is no carving instrument, And yet it maketh sharp the carving tool And if you see my efforts wrongly spent, Eschew that course and learn out of my school For thus the wise may profit by the fool, And edge his wit, and grow more keen and wary, For wisdom shines opposed to its contrary.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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To keep demands as much skill as to win.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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How potent is the fancy! People are so impressionable, they can die of imagination.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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This world nys but a thurghfare ful of wo, And we been pilgrymes, passynge to and fro.
Geoffrey Chaucer