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Geoffrey Chaucer quotes
Nowhere so busy a man as he than he, and yet he seemed busier than he was.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Make a virtue of necessity.
Geoffrey Chaucer
people can die of mere imagination.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Forbid us something, and that thing we desire.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Ful wys is he that kan hymselven knowe.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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
Nature, the vicar of the Almighty Lord.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Trouthe is the hyest thyng that man may kepe.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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
Harde is his heart that loveth nought In May.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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.
Geoffrey Chaucer
The guilty think all talk is of themselves.
Geoffrey Chaucer
The greatest scholars are not usually the wisest people.
Geoffrey Chaucer
It is nought good a sleping hound to wake.
Geoffrey Chaucer
He is gentle that doeth gentle deeds.
Geoffrey Chaucer
But Christ's lore and his apostles twelve, He taught and first he followed it himself.
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
Go, little booke! go, my little tragedie!
Geoffrey Chaucer
Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie.
Geoffrey Chaucer
That field hath eyen, and the wood hath ears.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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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