Discover a wealth of wisdom and insight from Geoffrey Chaucer through their most impactful and thought-provoking quotes and sayings. Expand your perspective with their inspiring words and share these beautiful Geoffrey Chaucer quote pictures with your friends and followers on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blog - all free of charge. We've compiled the top 214 Geoffrey Chaucer quotes for you to explore and share with others.

Her statue, glorious in majesty,Stood naked, floating on a vasty sea,And from the navel down there were a massOf green and glittering waves as bright as glass.In her right hand a cithern carried sheAnd on her head, most beautiful to see,A garland of fresh roses, while aboveThere circles round her many a flickering dove. By Geoffrey Chaucer Statue Glorious Naked Floating Head

Love will not be constrain'd by mastery.When mast'ry comes, the god of love anonBeateth his wings, and, farewell, he is gone.Love is a thing as any spirit free. By Geoffrey Chaucer Farewell Wings Free Love Constrain

We're like two dogs in battle on their own;They fought all day but neither got the bone,There came a kite above them, nothing loth,And while they fought he took it from them both."From Chaucer's "The Knight's Tale By Geoffrey Chaucer Chaucer Tale Knight Fought Both

His spirit chaunged house and wente ther,As I cam nevere, I kan nat tellen wher. By Geoffrey Chaucer Nevere Wher Spirit Chaunged House

I will eviscerate you in fiction. Every pimple, every character flaw. I was naked for a day; you will be naked for eternity. A Knight's Tale By Geoffrey Chaucer Fiction Eviscerate Naked Tale Pimple

Thus in this heaven he took his delight And smothered her with kisses upon kisses Till gradually he came to know where bliss is. By Geoffrey Chaucer Till Kisses Heaven Delight Smothered

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Alas Sin Love Venus Deny

For there is one thing I can safely say: that those bound by love must obey each other if they are to keep company long. Love will not be constrained by mastery; when mastery comes, the God of love at once beats his wings, and farewell he is gone. Love is a thing as free as any spirit; women naturally desire liberty, and not to be constrained like slaves; and so do men, if I shall tell the truth. By Geoffrey Chaucer Love Long Safely Bound Obey

This Nicholas anon leet fle a fartAs greet as it had been a thonder-dent,That with the strook he was almoost yblent;And he was redy with his iren hoot,And Nicholas amydde the ers he smoot.Of gooth the skyn an hande-brede aboute,The hoote kultour brende so his toute,And for the smert he wende for to dye. By Geoffrey Chaucer Nicholas Yblent Dye Anon Leet

The life so brief, the art so long in the learning, the attempt so hard, the conquest so sharp, the fearful joy that ever slips away so quickly - by all this I mean love, which so sorely astounds my feeling with its wondrous operation, that when I think upon it I scarce know whether I wake or sleep. By Geoffrey Chaucer Learning Hard Sharp Quickly Love

Purity in body and heart May please someas for me, I make no boast. For, as you know, no master of a household Has all of his utensils made of gold; Some are wood, and yet they are of use. By Geoffrey Chaucer Purity Boast Body Heart Someas

If no love is, O God, what fele I so? And if love is, what thing and which is he? If love be good, from whennes cometh my woo? If it be wikke, a wonder thynketh me By Geoffrey Chaucer God Love Fele Thing Good

all that glitters is not gold, By Geoffrey Chaucer Gold Glitters

Nowhere so busy a man as he than he, and yet he seemed busier than he was. By Geoffrey Chaucer Busy Man Busier

Of alle the floures in the mede, Than love I most these floures whyte and rede, Swiche as men callen daysies in our toun ... Til that myn herte dye ... That wel by reson men hit calle may The 'dayesye' or elles the 'ye of day,' The emperice and flour of floures alle. I pray to god that faire mot she falle, And alle that loven floures, for hir sake! By Geoffrey Chaucer Swiche Floures Mede Rede Toun

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Discomfort Pain Methinks Languor Dread

For I have seyn of a ful misty morwe Folowen ful ofte a myrie someris day. By Geoffrey Chaucer Folowen Day Ful Seyn Misty

Drunkenness is the very sepulcherOf man's wit and his discretion. By Geoffrey Chaucer Drunkenness Discretion Sepulcherof Man Wit

Whoso will pray, he must fast and be clean, And fat his soul, and make his body lean. By Geoffrey Chaucer Whoso Pray Clean Soul Lean

For if a priest be foul, on whom we trust, No wonder is a common man should rust -The Prologue of Chaucers Canterbury Tales- By Geoffrey Chaucer Tales Prologue Chaucers Canterbury Foul

Ek gret effect men write in place lite; Th'entente is al, and nat the lettres space. By Geoffrey Chaucer Thentente Lite Space Gret Effect

Whan that Aprill with his shoures sooteThe droghte of March hath perced to the roote,And bathed every veyne in switch licourOf which vertu engendred is the flour;Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breethInspired hath in every holt and heethThe tendre croppes, and the yonge sonneHath in the Ram his half cours yronne,And smale foweles maken melodye,That slepen al the nyght with open ye(So Priketh hem Nature in hir corages),Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;And specially from every shires endeOf Engelond to Caunterbury they wende,The hooly blisful martir for to seke,That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke By Geoffrey Chaucer Whan Hath Thanne Aprill March

Til that the brighte sonne loste his hewe; For th'orisonte hath reft the sonne his lyght; This is as muche to seye as it was nyght! By Geoffrey Chaucer Til Hewe Lyght Nyght Sonne

Filth and old age, I'm sure you will agree, are powerful wardens upon chastity. By Geoffrey Chaucer Filth Age Agree Chastity Powerful

'My lige lady, generally,' quod he, 'Wommen desyren to have sovereyntee As well over hir housbond as hir love.' By Geoffrey Chaucer Generally Wommen Lady Quod Love

Certain, when I was born, so long ago, Death drew the tap of life and let it flow; And ever since the tap has done its task, And now there's little but an empty cask. By Geoffrey Chaucer Death Tap Born Ago Flow

No empty handed man can lure a bird By Geoffrey Chaucer Bird Empty Handed Man Lure

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer April March Root Flower Sweet

High on a stag the Goddess held her seat,And there were little hounds about her feet;Below her feet there was a sickle moon, Waxing it seemed, but would be waning soon.Her statue bore a mantle of bright green,Her hand a bow with arrows cased and keen;Her eyes were lowered, gazing as she rodeDown to where Pluto has his dark abode. By Geoffrey Chaucer Waxing Feet Goddess Pluto High

All good things must come to an end. By Geoffrey Chaucer End Good Things

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Patience Virtue Conquering Reach Speech

Chese now," quod she, "oon of thise thynges tweye:To han me foul and old til that I deye,And be to yow a trewe, humble wyf,And nevere yow displese in al my lyf,Or elles ye wol han me yong and fair,And take youre aventure of the repairThat shal be to youre hous by cause of me,Or in som oother place, may wel be.Now chese yourselven, wheither that yow liketh. By Geoffrey Chaucer Han Yow Chese Youre Quod

people have managed to marry without arithmetic By Geoffrey Chaucer People Arithmetic Managed Marry

you will not be master of my body & my property By Geoffrey Chaucer Body Property Master

Then you compared a woman's love to Hell, To barren land where water will not dwell, And you compared it to a quenchless fire, The more it burns the more is its desire To burn up everything that burnt can be. You say that just as worms destroy a tree A wife destroys her husband and contrives, As husbands know, the ruin of their lives. By Geoffrey Chaucer Hell Compared Dwell Fire Woman

He who accepts his poverty unhurt I'd say is rich although he lacked a shirt. But truly poor are they who whine and fret and covet what they cannot hope to get. By Geoffrey Chaucer Shirt Accepts Poverty Unhurt Rich

Upon his arm he bare a gay bracer*, *small shield And by his side a sword and a buckler, And on that other side a gay daggere, Harnessed well, and sharp as point of spear: By Geoffrey Chaucer Harnessed Gay Side Bracer Small

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Jack Dover Blood Cold Pasty

He kept his tippet stuffed with pins for curls, And pocket-knives, to give to pretty girls. By Geoffrey Chaucer Curls Pocketknives Girls Tippet Stuffed

I am not the rose, but I have lived near the rose. By Geoffrey Chaucer Rose Lived

Yet do not miss the moral, my good men.For Saint Paul says that all that's written wellIs written down some useful truth to tell.Then take the wheat and let the chaff lie still. By Geoffrey Chaucer Saint Paul Written Moral Miss

By God," quod he, "for pleynly, at a word,Thy drasty rymyng is nat worth a toord! By Geoffrey Chaucer God Quod Pleynly Toord Wordthy

There was the murdered corpse, in covert laid,And violent death in thousand shapes displayed;The city to the soldier's rage resigned;Successless wars, and poverty behind;Ships burnt in fight, or forced on rocky shores,And the rash hunter strangled by the boars;The newborn babe by nurses overlaid;And the cook caught within the raging fire he made. By Geoffrey Chaucer Successless Ships Corpse Displayed Resigned

I know that my singing doesn't make the moon rise, nor does it make the stars shine. But without my song, the night would seem empty and incomplete. There is more to daybreak than light, just as there is more to nighttime than darkness. By Geoffrey Chaucer Make Rise Shine Singing Moon

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Nature Lands Hearts Doth Stir

But for to telle yow al hir beautee,It lyth nat in my tonge, n'yn my konnyng;I dar nat undertake so heigh a thyng.Myn Englissh eek is insufficient.It moste been a rethor excellentThat koude his colours longynge for that art,If he sholde hire discryven every part.I am noon swich, I moot speke as I kan. By Geoffrey Chaucer Englissh Nat Tonge Nyn Konnyng

And if love is, what thing and which is he? If love be good, from whennes cometh my woo? By Geoffrey Chaucer Love Thing Good Woo Whennes

Go litel bok, go, litel myn tragedye,Ther God thi makere yet, er that he dye,So sende myght to make in som comedye!But litel book, no makyng thow n'envie,But subgit be to alle poesye;And kis the steppes where as thow seest paceVirgile, Ovide, Omer, Lucan, and Stace. By Geoffrey Chaucer Ovide Omer Lucan Stace God

And so it is in politics, dear brother, Each for himself alone, there is no other. By Geoffrey Chaucer Politics Dear Brother

earn what you can since everything's for sale By Geoffrey Chaucer Earn Sale

Patience is a conquering virtue. By Geoffrey Chaucer Patience Virtue Conquering

In the stars is written the death of every man. By Geoffrey Chaucer Man Stars Written Death

He who repeats a tale after a man, Is bound to say, as nearly as he can, Each single word, if he remembers it,However rudely spoken or unfit,Or else the tale he tells will be untrue,The things invented and the phrases new. By Geoffrey Chaucer Tale Man Word Repeats Bound

Look up on high, and thank the God of all. By Geoffrey Chaucer God High

The gretteste clerkes been noght wisest men. By Geoffrey Chaucer Men Gretteste Clerkes Noght Wisest

He was as fresh as is the month of May. By Geoffrey Chaucer Fresh Month

And as for me, thogh that I can but lyte, On bakes for to rede I me delyte, And to hem yeve I feyth and ful credence, And in myn herte have hem in reverence So hertely, that ther is game noon, That fro my bokes maketh me to goon, But hit be seldom, on the holyday; Save, certeynly, when that the month of May Is comen, and that I here the foules singe, And that the floures ginnen for to springe, Farwel my book and my devocion. By Geoffrey Chaucer Save Farwel Hem Certeynly Thogh

And as for me, though that I konne but lyte,On bokes for to rede I me delyte,And to hem yive I feyth and ful credence,And in myn herte have hem in reverenceSo hertely, that ther is game noonThat fro my bokes maketh me to goon,But yt be seldom on the holyday,Save, certeynly, whan that the month of MayIs comen, and that I here the foules synge,And that the floures gynnen for to sprynge,Farewel my bok and my devocioun! By Geoffrey Chaucer Certeynly Bokes Hem Hertely Holydaysave

Women desire six things: They want their husbands to be brave, wise, rich, generous, obedient to wife, and lively in bed. By Geoffrey Chaucer Wise Rich Generous Women Things

Thou shalt make castels thanne in Spayne And dreme of joye, all but in vayne. By Geoffrey Chaucer Spayne Thou Joye Vayne Shalt

One shouldn't be too inquisitive in life Either about God's secrets or one's wife. By Geoffrey Chaucer God Wife Inquisitive Life Secrets

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Pisse Certes Roses Bushes Lye

There's never a new fashion but it's old. By Geoffrey Chaucer Fashion

Throgh me men gon into that blysful placeOf hertes hele and dedly woundes cure;Thorgh me men gon unto the welle of grace,There grene and lusty May shal evere endure.This is the wey to al good aventure.Be glad, thow redere, and thy sorwe of-caste;Al open am I - passe in, and sped thee faste!''Thorgh me men gon,' than spak that other side,'Unto the mortal strokes of the spereOf which Disdayn and Daunger is the gyde,There nevere tre shal fruyt ne leves bere.This strem yow ledeth to the sorweful wereThere as the fish in prisoun is al drye;The'eschewing is only the remedye! By Geoffrey Chaucer Men Thorgh Gon Theeschewing Shal

If gold rusts, what then can iron do? By Geoffrey Chaucer Rusts Gold Iron

Who shall give a lover any law?' Love is a greater law, by my troth, than any law written by mortal man. By Geoffrey Chaucer Law Give Lover Love Troth

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Fortune Pieces Dyvers Allas Gan

Life is short. Art long. Opportunity is fleeting. Expierience treacherous. Judgement difficult. By Geoffrey Chaucer Life Short Art Long Opportunity

For God's love, take things patiently, have sense, Think! We are prisoners and shall always be. Fortune has given us this adversity, Some wicked planetary dispensation, Some Saturn's trick or evil constellation Has given us this, and Heaven, though we had sworn The contrary, so stood when we were born. We must endure it, that's the long and short. By Geoffrey Chaucer God Love Patiently Sense Things

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Eschew Carving Instrument Tool Spent

But, Lord Crist! whan that it remembreth me Upon my yowthe, and on my jolitee, It tickleth me aboute myn herte roote. Unto this day it dooth myn herte boote That I have had my world as in my tyme. But age, alias! that al wole envenyme, Hath me biraft my beautee and my pith. Lat go, farewel! the devel go therwith! The flour is goon, ther is namoore to telle; The bren, as I best kan, now most I selle. By Geoffrey Chaucer Lord Crist Myn Herte Hath

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Sundry Remember Years Esteemed Strange

I gave my whole heart up, for him to hold. By Geoffrey Chaucer Hold Gave Heart

The cat would eat fish but would not get her feet wet. By Geoffrey Chaucer Wet Cat Eat Fish Feet

Lat take a cat, and fostre him wel with milk, And tendre flesh, and make his couche of silk, And let him seen a mous go by the wal; Anon he weyveth milk, and flesh, and al, And every deyntee that is in that hous, Swich appetyt hath he to ete a mous. By Geoffrey Chaucer Milk Flesh Mous Anon Swich

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Cometh Fields Saith Books Faith

By Pluto sent at the request of Saturn. Arcita's horse in terror danced a pattern And leapt aside and foundered as he leapt, And ere he was aware Arcite was swept Out of the saddle and pitched upon his head Onto the ground, and there he lay for dead; His breast was shattered by the saddle-bow. By Geoffrey Chaucer Saturn Pluto Request Leapt Arcite

If a man really loves a woman, of course he wouldn't marry her for the world if he were not quite sure that he was the best person she could possibly marry. By Geoffrey Chaucer Marry Woman Man Loves World

By God, if women had written stories,As clerks had within here oratories,They would have written of men more wickednessThan all the mark of Adam may redress. By Geoffrey Chaucer God Adam Redress Written Women

And once he had got really drunk on wine,Then he would speak no language but Latin. By Geoffrey Chaucer Latin Drunk Winethen Speak Language

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Goddes Men Blessed Alwey Kan

Loke who that is most vertuous alway, Prive and apert, and most entendeth ay To do the gentil dedes that he can, And take him for the gretest gentilman. By Geoffrey Chaucer Prive Loke Alway Apert Gentilman

For oute of olde feldys, as men sey,Comyth al this newe corn from yer to yere;And out of olde bokis, in good fey,Comyth al this newe science that men lere. By Geoffrey Chaucer Olde Newe Feldys Yere Bokis

First he wrought, and afterwards he taught. By Geoffrey Chaucer Wrought Taught

3440 An hole he fond3440, ful lowe upon a bord, Theras3441 the cat was wont in for to crepe, And at that hole he looked in ful depe3442, And atte laste he hadde of him a sighte. By Geoffrey Chaucer Hole Ful Bord Crepe Sighte

I hold a mouses wit not worth a leke, That hath but on hole for to sterten to. By Geoffrey Chaucer Leke Hold Mouses Wit Worth

But Christ's lore and his apostles twelve,He taught and first he followed it himself. By Geoffrey Chaucer Christ Lore Apostles Twelvehe Taught

A bettre preest, I trowe that nowher noon is. He wayted after no pompe and reverence, 525 Ne maked him a spyced conscience, But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve, He taughte, and first he folwed it him-selve. By Geoffrey Chaucer Preest Bettre Trowe Nowher Noon

How potent is the fancy! People are so impressionable, they can die of imagination. By Geoffrey Chaucer Fancy Potent People Impressionable Imagination

The handsome gifts that fate and nature lend us Most often are the very ones that end us. By Geoffrey Chaucer Handsome Gifts Fate Nature Lend

The life so short, the crafts so long to learn. By Geoffrey Chaucer Short Learn Life Crafts Long

we know little of the things for which we pray By Geoffrey Chaucer Pray Things

This world nys but a thurghfare ful of wo, And we been pilgrymes, passynge to and fro. By Geoffrey Chaucer Pilgrymes Passynge Fro World Nys

Though Plente that is goddesse of rychesses hielde adoun with ful horn, and withdraweth nat hir hand, as many richesses as the see torneth upward sandes whan it is moeved with ravysshynge blastes, or elles as manye rychesses as ther schynen bryghte sterres in hevene on the sterry nyghtes; yit, for al that, mankende nolde nat cese to wepe wrecchide pleyntes. And al be it so that God resceyveth gladly hir preiers, and yyveth hem, as fool-large, moche gold, and apparayleth coveytous folk with noble or cleer honours; yit semeth hem haven igeten nothyng, but alwey hir cruel ravyne, devourynge al that they han geten, scheweth othere gapynges (that is to seyn, gapyn and desiren yit after mo rychesses.) What brydles myghte withholden to any certeyn ende the disordene covetise of men, whan evere the rather that it fletith in large yiftes, the more ay brenneth in hem the thurst of havynge? Certes he that qwakynge and dredful weneth hymselven nedy, he ne lyveth nevermo ryche. By Geoffrey Chaucer Nat Plente Rychesses Hir Yit

One flesh they are; and one flesh, so I'd guess,Has but one heart, come grief or happiness. By Geoffrey Chaucer Flesh Heart Happiness Guesshas Grief

By nature, men love newfangledness. By Geoffrey Chaucer Nature Men Newfangledness Love

That field hath eyen, and the wood hath ears. By Geoffrey Chaucer Eyen Ears Hath Field Wood

Hyt is not al golde that glareth. By Geoffrey Chaucer Hyt Glareth Golde

And after winter folweth grene May. By Geoffrey Chaucer Winter Folweth Grene

Men may the wise atrenne, and naught atrede. By Geoffrey Chaucer Men Atrenne Atrede Wise Naught

Three years went by in happiness and health; He bore himself so well in peace and war That there was no one Theseus valued more. By Geoffrey Chaucer Theseus Health Years Happiness Bore

the guilty think all talk is of themselves. By Geoffrey Chaucer Guilty Talk

For thus men seyth, That on thenketh the beere,But al another thenketh his ledere. By Geoffrey Chaucer Seyth Ledere Thenketh Men Beerebut

Take a cat, nourish it well with milk and tender meat, make it a couch of silk ... By Geoffrey Chaucer Cat Nourish Meat Make Silk

One cannot be avenged for every wrong; according to the occasion, everyone who knows how, must use temperance. By Geoffrey Chaucer Wrong Occasion Temperance Avenged

The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne. By Geoffrey Chaucer Short Lerne Lyf Craft Long

If love be good, from whence cometh my woe? By Geoffrey Chaucer Good Woe Love Cometh

When that Aprille with his shoures sote.The droghte of Marche hath perced to the rote, And bathed every veyne in swich licour,Of which vertue engendred is the flour. By Geoffrey Chaucer Aprille Marche Rote Flour Shoures

He that loveth God will do diligence to please God by his works, and abandon himself, with all his might, well for to do. By Geoffrey Chaucer God Works Loveth Diligence Abandon

Everybody wants to go to the Super Bowl. Nobody wants to run laps. By Geoffrey Chaucer Bowl Super Laps Run

For thogh we slepe, or wake, or rome, or ryde, Ay fleeth the tyme; it nyl no man abyde. By Geoffrey Chaucer Slepe Wake Rome Ryde Tyme

You are the cause by which I die. By Geoffrey Chaucer Die

If were not foolish young, were foolish old. By Geoffrey Chaucer Young Foolish

Eke wonder last but nine deies never in toun. By Geoffrey Chaucer Eke Toun Deies

The proverbe saith that many a smale maketh a grate. By Geoffrey Chaucer Grate Proverbe Saith Smale Maketh

Time lost, as men may see, For nothing may recovered be. By Geoffrey Chaucer Time Lost Men Recovered

And when a beest is deed, he hath no peyne; But man after his deeth moot wepe and pleyne. By Geoffrey Chaucer Deed Peyne Pleyne Beest Hath

He is gentle that doeth gentle deeds. By Geoffrey Chaucer Deeds Gentle Doeth

Lo, which a greet thing is affeccioun!Men may die of imaginacioun,So depe may impressioun be take. By Geoffrey Chaucer Men Affeccioun Greet Thing Die

Mordre wol out, that se we day by day. By Geoffrey Chaucer Mordre Day Wol

Abstinence is approved of God. By Geoffrey Chaucer God Abstinence Approved

And high above, depicted in a tower,Sat Conquest, robed in majesty and power,Under a sword that swung above his head,Sharp-edged and hanging by a subtle thread. By Geoffrey Chaucer Conquest Depicted Robed Thread High

And shame it is, if that a priest take keep, To see a shitten shepherd and clean sheep: By Geoffrey Chaucer Sheep Shame Priest Shitten Shepherd

But al be that he was a philosophre, Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre. By Geoffrey Chaucer Philosophre Cofre Hadde Litel Gold

Until we're rotten, we cannot be ripe. By Geoffrey Chaucer Rotten Ripe

Nature, the vicar of the Almighty Lord. By Geoffrey Chaucer Nature Lord Almighty Vicar

And then the wren gan scippen and to daunce. By Geoffrey Chaucer Daunce Wren Gan Scippen

Ye knowe eek, that in forme of speche is chaunge With-inne a thousand yeer, and wordes tho That hadden prys, now wonder nyce and straunge Us thinketh hem; and yet they spake hem so, And spedde as wel in love as men now do. By Geoffrey Chaucer Withinne Hem Eek Yeer Prys

He hath considered shortly, in a clause1763, The trespas 1764 of hem bothe, and eek the cause, 1765 And althogh that his ire hir gilt accused, Yet in his resoun he hem bothe excused, As thus: he thoghte wel that every man Wol helpe himself in love if that he kan, And eek delivere himself out of prisoun; By Geoffrey Chaucer Hem Bothe Eek Wol Shortly

In love there is but little rest. By Geoffrey Chaucer Rest Love

A yokel mind loves stories from of old, Being the kind it can repeat and hold. By Geoffrey Chaucer Hold Yokel Mind Loves Stories

A love grown old is not the love once new. By Geoffrey Chaucer Love Grown

Men love newfangleness. By Geoffrey Chaucer Men Newfangleness Love

I'll die for stifled love, by all that's true. By Geoffrey Chaucer Love True Die Stifled

That of all the floures in the mede, Thanne love I most these floures white and rede, Suche as men callen daysyes in her toune. By Geoffrey Chaucer Thanne Suche Mede Rede Toune

Well is it said that neither love nor power Admit a rival, even for an hour. By Geoffrey Chaucer Admit Rival Hour Love Power

He loved chivalrye Trouthe and honour, freedom and curteisye. By Geoffrey Chaucer Trouthe Honour Freedom Curteisye Loved

doctors & druggists wash each other's hands By Geoffrey Chaucer Doctors Druggists Hands Wash

One cannot scold or complain at every word. Learn to endure patiently, or else, as I live and breathe, you shall learn it whether you want or not. By Geoffrey Chaucer Word Scold Complain Learn Patiently

But manly set the world on sixe and sevene; And, if thou deye a martir, go to hevene. By Geoffrey Chaucer Sevene Martir Hevene Manly Set

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Air Loud Soun Ybroken Spoken

But all thing which that shineth as the gold Ne is no gold, as I have herd it told. By Geoffrey Chaucer Told Gold Thing Shineth Herd

Out of the gosple he tho wordes caughte,And this figure he added eek therto,That if gold ruste, what shal iren do?For if a preest be foul, on whom we truste,No wonder is a lewed man to ruste;And shame it is, if a prest take keep,A shiten shepherde and a clene sheep.Wel oghte a preest ensample for to yive,By his clennesse, how that his sheep sholde lyve. By Geoffrey Chaucer Ruste Preest Foul Clennesse Lyve

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Lioun Flye Gentil Kind Byteth

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 ... By Geoffrey Chaucer Rust Trust Gold Iron Priest

Death is the end of every worldly pain. By Geoffrey Chaucer Death Pain End Worldly

... murder wol out By Geoffrey Chaucer Murder Wol

Truth is the highest thing that man may keep. By Geoffrey Chaucer Truth Highest Thing Man

Every honest miller has a golden thumb. By Geoffrey Chaucer Thumb Honest Miller Golden

Or as an ook comth of a litel spir, So thorugh this lettre, which that she hym sente, Encressen gan desir, of which he brente. By Geoffrey Chaucer Encressen Spir Lettre Sente Desir

First he wrought, and afterward he taught. By Geoffrey Chaucer Wrought Taught Afterward

Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie. By Geoffrey Chaucer Min Travaille Glorie Thin

Felds hath eyen, and wode have eres. By Geoffrey Chaucer Felds Eyen Eres Hath Wode

The bisy larke, messager of day. By Geoffrey Chaucer Larke Messager Day Bisy

A priest should take to heart the shameful scene of shepards filthy while the sheep are clean. By Geoffrey Chaucer Clean Priest Heart Shameful Scene

There's no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily. By Geoffrey Chaucer Workman Whatsoever Hastily Work

Ne nevere mo ne lakked hire pite;Tendre-herted, slydynge of corage;But trewely, I kan nat telle hire age. By Geoffrey Chaucer Tendreherted Pite Slydynge Corage Trewely

Ther is no newe gyse that it nas old. By Geoffrey Chaucer Ther Newe Gyse Nas

For tyme ylost may nought recovered be. By Geoffrey Chaucer Tyme Ylost Nought Recovered

The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears. By Geoffrey Chaucer Eyes Ears Fields Woods

Ful wys is he that kan himselve knowe. By Geoffrey Chaucer Ful Knowe Wys Kan Himselve

The devil can only destroy those who are already on their way to damnation. By Geoffrey Chaucer Damnation Devil Destroy

And she was fair as is the rose in May. By Geoffrey Chaucer Fair Rose

The greatest scholars are not usually the wisest people By Geoffrey Chaucer People Greatest Scholars Wisest

Thus with hir fader for a certeyn spaceDwelleth this flour of wyfly pacience,That neither by hir wordes ne hir faceBiforn the folk, ne eek in her absence,Ne shewed she that hir was doon offence. By Geoffrey Chaucer Hir Folk Offence Fader Certeyn

Forbid Us Something and That Thing we Desire By Geoffrey Chaucer Desire Thing Forbid

Then the Miller fell off his horse. By Geoffrey Chaucer Miller Horse Fell

Of harmes two the lesse is for to cheese. By Geoffrey Chaucer Cheese Harmes Lesse

Yblessed be god that I have wedded fyve! Welcome the sixte, whan that evere he shal. By Geoffrey Chaucer Yblessed Fyve God Wedded Sixte

And brought of mighty ale a large quart. By Geoffrey Chaucer Quart Brought Mighty Ale Large

So was hir jolly whistel wel y-wette. By Geoffrey Chaucer Ywette Hir Jolly Whistel Wel

If gold ruste, what shall iren do? By Geoffrey Chaucer Ruste Gold Iren

The man who has no wife is no cuckold. By Geoffrey Chaucer Cuckold Man Wife

In general, women desire to rule over their husbands and lovers, to be the authority above them. By Geoffrey Chaucer General Women Lovers Desire Rule

Habit maketh no monk, ne wearing of gilt spurs maketh no knight. By Geoffrey Chaucer Maketh Habit Monk Knight Wearing

Full wise is he that can himselven knowe. By Geoffrey Chaucer Full Knowe Wise Himselven

Woe to the cook whose sauce has no sting. By Geoffrey Chaucer Woe Sting Cook Sauce

Youre tale anoyeth al this compaignye.Swich talkyng is nat worth a boterflye, By Geoffrey Chaucer Youre Boterflye Tale Anoyeth Compaignyeswich

Ther nis no werkman, whatsoevere he be, That may bothe werke wel and hastily. By Geoffrey Chaucer Ther Werkman Whatsoevere Hastily Nis

What is better than wisdom? Woman. And what is better than a good woman? Nothing. By Geoffrey Chaucer Wisdom Woman Good

For sondry scoles maken sotile clerkis;Womman of manye scoles half a clerk is. By Geoffrey Chaucer Womman Clerkis Scoles Sondry Maken

One eare it heard, at the other out it went. By Geoffrey Chaucer Heard Eare

Murder will out, this my conclusion. By Geoffrey Chaucer Murder Conclusion

With emptie hands men may no haukes lure. By Geoffrey Chaucer Lure Emptie Hands Men Haukes

Trouthe is the hyest thyng that man may kepe. By Geoffrey Chaucer Trouthe Kepe Hyest Thyng Man

That he is gentil that doth gentil dedis. By Geoffrey Chaucer Dedis Gentil Doth

Make a virtue of necessity. By Geoffrey Chaucer Make Necessity Virtue

And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche. By Geoffrey Chaucer Gladly Lerne Teche Wolde

To keep demands as much skill as to win. By Geoffrey Chaucer Win Demands Skill

This flour of wifly patience. By Geoffrey Chaucer Patience Flour Wifly

What's said is said and goes upon its way Like it or not, repent it as you may. By Geoffrey Chaucer Repent

It is ful fair a man to bere him evene,/For alday meeteth men at unset stevene. By Geoffrey Chaucer Evene Stevene Ful Fair Man

O woman's counsel is so often cold! A woman's counsel brought us first to woe, Made Adam out of Paradise to go Where he had been so merry, so well at ease. By Geoffrey Chaucer Cold Woman Counsel Made Adam

Who then may trust the dice, at Fortune's throw? By Geoffrey Chaucer Fortune Dice Throw Trust

Yow loveres axe I now this questioun, Who hath the worse, Arcite or Palamoun? 490 That oon may seen his lady day by day, But in prison he moot dwelle alway. That other wher him list may ryde or go, But seen his lady shal he never-mo. Now demeth as yow liste, ye that can, 495 For I wol telle forth as I bigan. Explicit prima Pars. Sequitur pars secunda. By Geoffrey Chaucer Arcite Palamoun Questioun Worse Loveres

For hym was levere have at his beddes heedTwenty bookes, clad in blak or reed,Of Aristotle and his philosophie,Than robes riche, or fithele, or gay sautrie. By Geoffrey Chaucer Aristotle Bookes Clad Riche Fithele

Youth may outrun the old, but not outwit. By Geoffrey Chaucer Youth Outwit Outrun

The latter end of joy is woe. By Geoffrey Chaucer Woe End Joy

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. By Geoffrey Chaucer Prosperitee Remembren Whan Fortunes Sharp

Yet in our ashen cold is fire yreken. By Geoffrey Chaucer Yreken Ashen Cold Fire

It is nought good a sleping hound to wake. By Geoffrey Chaucer Wake Nought Good Sleping Hound

Right as an aspen lefe she gan to quake. By Geoffrey Chaucer Quake Aspen Lefe Gan

And for to see, and eek for to be seie. By Geoffrey Chaucer Seie Eek

Many a true word is spoken in jest By Geoffrey Chaucer Jest True Word Spoken

But of no nombre mencioun made he, Of bigamye, or of octogamye33. Why sholde men thanne speke of it vileinye34? By Geoffrey Chaucer Bigamye Nombre Mencioun Made Sholde

For tyme y-lost may not recovered be. By Geoffrey Chaucer Tyme Ylost Recovered

My house is small, but you are learned men And by your arguments can make a place Twenty foot broad as infinite as space. By Geoffrey Chaucer Twenty Small Space House Learned

I am right sorry for your heavinesse. By Geoffrey Chaucer Heavinesse

Be nat wrooth, my lord, though that I pleye. Ful ofte in game a sooth I have herd seye! By Geoffrey Chaucer Wrooth Lord Pleye Nat Ful

Go, little booke! go, my little tragedie! By Geoffrey Chaucer Booke Tragedie

The smylere with the knyf under the cloke. By Geoffrey Chaucer Cloke Smylere Knyf

Many small make a great. By Geoffrey Chaucer Great Small Make

people can die of mere imagination By Geoffrey Chaucer People Imagination Die Mere

Fie on possession, But if a man be vertuous withal. By Geoffrey Chaucer Fie Possession Withal Man Vertuous