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The smylere with the knyf under the cloke.

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

More quotes by Geoffrey Chaucer

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For tyme y-lost may not recovered be.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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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.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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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. . . .
Geoffrey Chaucer
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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.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Patience is a conquering virtue. The learned say that, if it not desert you, It vanquishes what force can never reach Why answer back at every angry speech? No, learn forbearance or, I'll tell you what, You will be taught it, whether you will or not.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote The droghte of March hath perced to the roote.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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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
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Yet in our ashen cold is fire yreken.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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This world nys but a thurghfare ful of wo, And we been pilgrymes, passynge to and fro.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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What is better than wisdom? Woman. And what is better than a good woman? Nothing.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Patience is a conquering virtue.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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To keep demands as much skill as to win.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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I am not the rose, but I have lived near the rose.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Fo lo, the gentil kind of the lioun! For when a flye offendeth him or byteth, He with his tayl awey the flye smyteth Al esily, for, of his genterye, Him deyneth net to wreke him on a flye, As cloth a curre or elles another beste.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Trouthe is the hyest thyng that man may kepe.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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The cat would eat fish but would not get her feet wet.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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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
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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.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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But manly set the world on sixe and sevene And, if thou deye a martir, go to hevene.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Ther is no newe gyse that it nas old.
Geoffrey Chaucer