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Death is the end of every worldly pain.
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
Death
Ends
Every
Worldly
Pain
More quotes by 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
There's no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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
Look up on high, and thank the God of all.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Pitee renneth soone in gentil herte.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Who then may trust the dice, at Fortune's throw?
Geoffrey Chaucer
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
Geoffrey Chaucer
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
And then the wren gan scippen and to daunce.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Nowhere so busy a man as he there was And yet he seemed busier than he was.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Ther nis no werkman, whatsoevere he be, That may bothe werke wel and hastily.
Geoffrey Chaucer
He who accepts his poverty unhurt I'd say is rich although he lacked a shirt. But truly poor are they who whine and fret and covet what they cannot hope to get.
Geoffrey Chaucer
How potent is the fancy! People are so impressionable, they can die of imagination.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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
What is better than wisdom? Woman. And what is better than a good woman? Nothing.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Woe to the cook whose sauce has no sting.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.
Geoffrey Chaucer
I am not the rose, but I have lived near the rose.
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
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.
Geoffrey Chaucer