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For out of old fields, as men saith, Cometh all this new corn from year to year And out of old books, in good faith, Cometh all this new science that men learn.

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
Good
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Men
Books
Year
Faith
Learn
Science
Saith
Book
Cometh
Years
Corn

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Filth and old age, I'm sure you will agree, are powerful wardens upon chastity.
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Many a true word is spoken in jest
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Certes, they been lye to hounds, for an hound when he cometh by the roses, or by other bushes, though he may nat pisse, yet wole he heve up his leg and make a countenance to pisse.
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Who looks at me, beholdeth sorrows all, All pain, all torture, woe and all distress I have no need on other harms to call, As anguish, languor, cruel bitterness, Discomfort, dread, and madness more and less Methinks from heaven above the tears must rain In pity for my harsh and cruel pain.
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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.
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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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Women naturally desire the same six things as I they want their husbands to be brave, wise, rich, generous with money, obedient to the wife, and lively in bed.
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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.
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Men sholde nat knowe of Goddes pryvetee Ye, blessed be alwey, a lewed man That noght but oonly his believe kan! So ferde another clerk with astromye, He walked in the feelds, for to prye Upon the sterres, what ther sholde bifalle, Til he was in a marle-pit yfalle.
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If gold rusts, what then can iron do?
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And then the wren gan scippen and to daunce.
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Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.
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The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne.
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Ther nis no werkman, whatsoevere he be, That may bothe werke wel and hastily.
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If were not foolish young, were foolish old.
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The gretteste clerkes been noght wisest men.
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Thou shalt make castels thanne in Spayne And dreme of joye, all but in vayne.
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Woe to the cook whose sauce has no sting.
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The devil can only destroy those who are already on their way to damnation.
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Full wise is he that can himselven knowe.
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