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We little know the things for which we pray.

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
Pray
Praying
Prayer
Littles
Little
Things

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There's no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.
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And then the wren gan scippen and to daunce.
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Nowhere so busy a man as he there was And yet he seemed busier than he was.
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. . . 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. . . .
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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.
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Who then may trust the dice, at Fortune's throw?
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The devil can only destroy those who are already on their way to damnation.
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Trouthe is the hyest thyng that man may kepe.
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For tyme ylost may nought recovered be.
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The smylere with the knyf under the cloke.
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Patience is a conquering virtue.
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Mercy surpasses justice.
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Make a virtue of necessity.
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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.
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The cat would eat fish but would not get her feet wet.
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Drunkenness is the very sepulcher Of man's wit and his discretion.
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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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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.
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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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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.
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