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What's said is said and goes upon its way Like it or not, repent it as you may.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Geoffrey Chaucer
Died: 1400
Died: October 25
Astrologer
Linguist
Lyricist
Philosopher
Poet
Politician
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London
England
Chaucer
Geoffrey Chaucer
Like
Repent
Goes
Upon
May
Way
More quotes by Geoffrey Chaucer
Pitee renneth soone in gentil herte.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Trouthe is the hyest thyng that man may kepe.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Alas, alas, that ever love was sin! I ever followed natural inclination Under the power of my constellation And was unable to deny, in truth, My chamber of Venus to a likely youth.
Geoffrey Chaucer
The devil can only destroy those who are already on their way to damnation.
Geoffrey Chaucer
What is better than wisdom? Woman. And what is better than a good woman? Nothing.
Geoffrey Chaucer
The smylere with the knyf under the cloke.
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
. . . if gold rust, what then will iron do?/ For if a priest be foul in whom we trust/ No wonder that a common man should rust. . . .
Geoffrey Chaucer
The lyf so short, the craft so longe to lerne. Th' assay so hard, so sharp the conquerynge, The dredful joye, alwey that slit so yerne Al this mene I be love... For out of olde feldes, as men seith, Cometh al this new corn fro yeer to yere And out of olde bokes, in good feith, Cometh al this newe science that men lere.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Nowhere so busy a man as he there was And yet he seemed busier than he was.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Woe to the cook whose sauce has no sting.
Geoffrey Chaucer
In love there is but little rest.
Geoffrey Chaucer
For tyme ylost may nought recovered be.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Ther is no newe gyse that it nas old.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Make a virtue of necessity.
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
Thou shalt make castels thanne in Spayne And dreme of joye, all but in vayne.
Geoffrey Chaucer
To keep demands as much skill as to win.
Geoffrey Chaucer
At the ches with me she (Fortune) gan to pleye With her false draughts (pieces) dyvers/She staal on me, and took away my fers. And when I sawgh my fers awaye, Allas! I kouthe no lenger playe.
Geoffrey Chaucer
The guilty think all talk is of themselves.
Geoffrey Chaucer
