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Time lost, as men may see, For nothing may recovered be.
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
Time
Recovered
Lost
May
Nothing
Men
More quotes by Geoffrey Chaucer
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.
Geoffrey Chaucer
All good things must come to an end.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Mercy surpasses justice.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Ther nis no werkman, whatsoevere he be, That may bothe werke wel and hastily.
Geoffrey Chaucer
With emptie hands men may no haukes lure.
Geoffrey Chaucer
But manly set the world on sixe and sevene And, if thou deye a martir, go to hevene.
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
But all thing which that shineth as the gold Ne is no gold, as I have herd it told.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Ther is no newe gyse that it nas old.
Geoffrey Chaucer
For tyme y-lost may not recovered be.
Geoffrey Chaucer
One shouldn't be too inquisitive in life Either about God's secrets or one's wife.
Geoffrey Chaucer
One cannot be avenged for every wrong according to the occasion, everyone who knows how, must use temperance.
Geoffrey Chaucer
There's no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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.
Geoffrey Chaucer
He is gentle that doeth gentle deeds.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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.
Geoffrey Chaucer
In April the sweet showers fall And pierce the drought of March to the root, and all The veins are bathed in liquor of such power As brings about the engendering of the flower.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.
Geoffrey Chaucer
The bisy larke, messager of day.
Geoffrey Chaucer