Geoffrey Chaucer Quotes

175 Sourced Quotes

O yonge, fresshe folkes, he or she,
In which that love up groweth with youre age, Repeyreth hom fro worldly vanyte.

Geoffrey Chaucer
It is no childes pley To take a wyf withouten avysement.

Geoffrey Chaucer
A Somonour was ther with us in that place,
That hadde a fyr-reed cherubynnes face,
For saucefleem he was, with eyen narwe.
As hoot he was and lecherous as a sparwe.

Geoffrey Chaucer
For evere it was, and evere it shal byfalle,
That Love is he that alle thing may bynde,
For may no man fordon the lawe of kynde.

Geoffrey Chaucer
Wommen desiren to have sovereynetee
As wel over hir housbond as hir love.

Geoffrey Chaucer
And what is bettre than wisedoom? Womman. And
what is bettre than a good womman? Nothyng.

Geoffrey Chaucer
O yonge fresshe folkes, he or she,
In which that love up-groweth with your age,
Repeyreth hoom fro worldly vanitee,
And of your herte up-casteth the visage
To thilke God that after his image
Yow made, and thynketh al nis but a faire
This world, that passeth sone as floures faire.

Geoffrey Chaucer
Greet prees at market maketh deere ware,
And to greet cheep is holde at litel prys.

Geoffrey Chaucer
One flesh they are; and one flesh, so I'd guess, Has but one heart, come grief or happiness.

Geoffrey Chaucer
But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve,
He taught; but first he folwed it himselve.

Geoffrey Chaucer
The proverbe saith that many a smale maketh a grate.

Geoffrey Chaucer
Soun ys noght but eyr ybroken,
And every speche that ys spoken,
Lowd or pryvee, foul or fair,
In his substaunce ys but air.

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
What is this world? what asketh men to have?
Now with his love, now in his colde grave
Allone, withouten any compaignye.

Geoffrey Chaucer
And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn, Than wolde he speke no word but Latyn.

Geoffrey Chaucer
Forth, pilgrim, forth! Forth, beste, out of thy stal!
Know thy contree, look up, thank God of al;
Hold the heye wey, and lat thy gost thee lede,
And trowth thee shal delivere, it is no drede.

Geoffrey Chaucer
This world nys but a thurghfare ful of wo,
And we been pilgrymes, passing to and fro.
Deeth is an ende of every worldly soore.

Geoffrey Chaucer
And for ther is so gret diversite
In Englissh and in writyng of oure tonge,
So prey I God that non myswrite the,
Ne the mysmetre for defaute of tonge;
And red wherso thow be, or elles songe,
That thow be understonde, God I biseche!

Geoffrey Chaucer
Love wol nat been constreyned by maistrye.
When maistrie comth, the God of Love anon
Beteth his wynges, and farewel, he is gon!
Love is a thyng as any spirit free.

Geoffrey Chaucer
Nowher so bisy a man as he ther nas,
And yet he semed bisier than he was.

Geoffrey Chaucer
Of all the floures in the mede,
Than love I most these floures white and rede,
Soch that men callen daisies in our toun.

Geoffrey Chaucer
Ther n' is no werkman whatever he be,
That may both werken wel and hastily. 4
This wol be done at leisure parfitly.

Geoffrey Chaucer
"My lige lady, generally," quod he,
"Wommen desiren have sovereynetee As well over hir housbond as hir love."

Geoffrey Chaucer
He helde about him alway, out of drede,
A world of folke.

Geoffrey Chaucer
Curteis he was, lowely, and servysable,
And carf biforn his fader at the table.

Geoffrey Chaucer
She wolde wepe, if that she saugh a mous
Kaught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde.
Of smale houndes hadde she that she fedde
With rosted flessh, or milk and wastel-breed.

Geoffrey Chaucer
For gold in phisik is a cordial,
Therefore he lovede gold in special.

Geoffrey Chaucer
Now welcome, somer, with thy sonne softe,
That hast this wintres wedres overshake.

Geoffrey Chaucer
But the Troian gestes, as they felle,
In Omer, or in Dares, or in Dite,
Whoso that kan may rede hem as they write.

Geoffrey Chaucer
Myn be the travaille, and thyn be the glorie!

Geoffrey Chaucer