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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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If gold rusts, what then can iron do?
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If no love is, O God, what fele I so? And if love is, what thing and which is he? If love be good, from whennes cometh my woo? If it be wikke, a wonder thynketh me
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First he wrought, and afterwards he taught.
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The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears.
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But all thing which that shineth as the gold Ne is no gold, as I have herd it told.
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For tyme y-lost may not recovered be.
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The guilty think all talk is of themselves.
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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.
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Woe to the cook whose sauce has no sting.
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That of all the floures in the mede, Thanne love I most these floures white and rede, Suche as men callen daysyes in her toune.
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Trouthe is the hyest thyng that man may kepe.
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The cat would eat fish but would not get her feet wet.
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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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Full wise is he that can himselven knowe.
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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.
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I gave my whole heart up, for him to hold.
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.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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And then the wren gan scippen and to daunce.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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We little know the things for which we pray.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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People can die of mere imagination.
Geoffrey Chaucer