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In general, women desire to rule over their husbands and lovers, to be the authority above them.
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
Women
Husbands
Lovers
Rule
General
Authority
Husband
Desire
More quotes by Geoffrey Chaucer
I gave my whole heart up, for him to hold.
Geoffrey Chaucer
The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Trouthe is the hyest thyng that man may kepe.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Nowhere so busy a man as he there was And yet he seemed busier than he was.
Geoffrey Chaucer
For in their hearts doth Nature stir them so Then people long on pilgrimage to go And palmers to be seeking foreign strands To distant shrines renowned in sundry lands.
Geoffrey Chaucer
But manly set the world on sixe and sevene And, if thou deye a martir, go to hevene.
Geoffrey Chaucer
There's no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.
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
Time lost, as men may see, For nothing may recovered be.
Geoffrey Chaucer
First he wrought, and afterwards he taught.
Geoffrey Chaucer
To keep demands as much skill as to win.
Geoffrey Chaucer
If gold rusts, what then can iron do?
Geoffrey Chaucer
Murder will out, this my conclusion.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Make a virtue of necessity.
Geoffrey Chaucer
If were not foolish young, were foolish old.
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
The guilty think all talk is of themselves.
Geoffrey Chaucer
All good things must come to an end.
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
Drunkenness is the very sepulcher Of man's wit and his discretion.
Geoffrey Chaucer