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Make a virtue of necessity.
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
Necessity
Humility
Fame
Virtue
Make
More quotes by Geoffrey Chaucer
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
I gave my whole heart up, for him to hold.
Geoffrey Chaucer
The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Ther nis no werkman, whatsoevere he be, That may bothe werke wel and hastily.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote The droghte of March hath perced to the roote.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Remember in the forms of speech comes change Within a thousand years, and words that then Were well esteemed, seem foolish now and strange And yet they spake them so, time and again, And thrived in love as well as any men And so to win their loves in sundry days, In sundry lands there are as many ways.
Geoffrey Chaucer
'My lige lady, generally,' quod he, 'Wommen desyren to have sovereyntee As well over hir housbond as hir love.'
Geoffrey Chaucer
Woe to the cook whose sauce has no sting.
Geoffrey Chaucer
For tyme y-lost may not recovered be.
Geoffrey Chaucer
There's no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.
Geoffrey Chaucer
He that loveth God will do diligence to please God by his works, and abandon himself, with all his might, well for to do.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Filth and old age, I'm sure you will agree, are powerful wardens upon chastity.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Nowhere so busy a man as he there was And yet he seemed busier than he was.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Drunkenness is the very sepulcher Of man's wit and his discretion.
Geoffrey Chaucer
The gretteste clerkes been noght wisest men.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Soun is noght but air ybroken, And every speche that is spoken, Loud or privee, foul or fair, In his substaunce is but air For as flaumbe is but lighted smoke, Right so soun is air ybroke.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Yet in our ashen cold is fire yreken.
Geoffrey Chaucer
People can die of mere imagination.
Geoffrey Chaucer
But all thing which that shineth as the gold Ne is no gold, as I have herd it told.
Geoffrey Chaucer
