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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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Geoffrey Chaucer
Died: 1400
Died: October 25
Astrologer
Linguist
Lyricist
Philosopher
Poet
Politician
Translator
Writer
London
England
Chaucer
Geoffrey Chaucer
Air
Right
Lighted
Every
Foul
Spoken
Loud
Smoke
Fairs
Fair

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The bisy larke, messager of day.
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Filth and old age, I'm sure you will agree, are powerful wardens upon chastity.
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We little know the things for which we pray.
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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.
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Patience is a conquering virtue.
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What's said is said and goes upon its way Like it or not, repent it as you may.
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Woe to the cook whose sauce has no sting.
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For tyme ylost may nought recovered be.
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Make a virtue of necessity.
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And so it is in politics, dear brother, Each for himself alone, there is no other.
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Trouthe is the hyest thyng that man may kepe.
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He is gentle that doeth gentle deeds.
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Forbid us something, and that thing we desire.
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The gretteste clerkes been noght wisest men.
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In love there is but little rest.
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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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First he wrought, and afterwards he taught.
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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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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.
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With emptie hands men may no haukes lure.
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