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Woe to the cook whose sauce has no sting.

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
Food
Sting
Sauce
Woe
Culinary
Cook
Cooks
Cooking
Whose

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The smylere with the knyf under the cloke.
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Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.
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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.
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Pitee renneth soone in gentil herte.
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And then the wren gan scippen and to daunce.
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Trouthe is the hyest thyng that man may kepe.
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The devil can only destroy those who are already on their way to damnation.
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Remember in the forms of speech comes change Within a thousand years, and words that then Were well esteemed, seem foolish now and strange And yet they spake them so, time and again, And thrived in love as well as any men And so to win their loves in sundry days, In sundry lands there are as many ways.
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Alas, alas, that ever love was sin! I ever followed natural inclination Under the power of my constellation And was unable to deny, in truth, My chamber of Venus to a likely youth.
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And so it is in politics, dear brother, Each for himself alone, there is no other.
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At the ches with me she (Fortune) gan to pleye With her false draughts (pieces) dyvers/She staal on me, and took away my fers. And when I sawgh my fers awaye, Allas! I kouthe no lenger playe.
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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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Make a virtue of necessity.
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Many a true word is spoken in jest
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There's no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Ful wys is he that kan hymselven knowe.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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The gretteste clerkes been noght wisest men.
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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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All good things must come to an end.
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.
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