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If were not foolish young, were foolish old.

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
Folly
Foolish
Young

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Pitee renneth soone in gentil herte.
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But manly set the world on sixe and sevene And, if thou deye a martir, go to hevene.
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One cannot scold or complain at every word. Learn to endure patiently, or else, as I live and breathe, you shall learn it whether you want or not.
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The devil can only destroy those who are already on their way to damnation.
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For in their hearts doth Nature stir them so Then people long on pilgrimage to go And palmers to be seeking foreign strands To distant shrines renowned in sundry lands.
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In love there is but little rest.
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To keep demands as much skill as to win.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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All good things must come to an end.
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And so it is in politics, dear brother, Each for himself alone, there is no other.
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For tyme ylost may nought recovered be.
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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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
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Full wise is he that can himselven knowe.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Nowhere so busy a man as he there was And yet he seemed busier than he was.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Who then may trust the dice, at Fortune's throw?
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Thou shalt make castels thanne in Spayne And dreme of joye, all but in vayne.
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Ful wys is he that kan hymselven knowe.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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For many a pasty have you robbed of blood, And many a Jack of Dover have you sold That has been heated twice and twice grown cold. From many a pilgrim have you had Christ's curse, For of your parsley they yet fare the worse, Which they have eaten with your stubble goose For in your shop full many a fly is loose.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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What is better than wisdom? Woman. And what is better than a good woman? Nothing.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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The life so brief, the art so long in the learning, the attempt so hard, the conquest so sharp, the fearful joy that ever slips away so quickly - by all this I mean love, which so sorely astounds my feeling with its wondrous operation, that when I think upon it I scarce know whether I wake or sleep.
Geoffrey Chaucer