Geoffrey Chaucer Quotes

If gold rusts, what then can iron do?

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.

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.

A yokel mind loves stories from of old, Being the kind it can repeat and hold.

Thus with hir fader for a certeyn space Dwelleth this flour of wyfly pacience, That neither by hir wordes ne hir face Biforn the folk, ne eek in her absence, Ne shewed she that hir was doon offence.

He loved chivalrye Trouthe and honour, freedom and curteisye.

If were not foolish young, were foolish old.

The cat would eat fish but would not get her feet wet.

Ther nis no werkman, whatsoevere he be, That may bothe werke wel and hastily.

For thogh we slepe, or wake, or rome, or ryde, Ay fleeth the tyme; it nyl no man abyde.

For I have seyn of a ful misty morwe Folowen ful ofte a myrie someris day.

Filth and old age, I'm sure you will agree, are powerful wardens upon chastity.

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!

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.

The latter end of joy is woe.

I gave my whole heart up, for him to hold.

Who then may trust the dice, at Fortune's throw?

This flour of wifly patience.

People can die of mere imagination.

The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears.

. . . 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. . . .

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.

If love be good, from whence cometh my woe?

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.

Drunkenness is the very sepulcher Of man's wit and his discretion.

Felds hath eyen, and wode have eres.

One eare it heard, at the other out it went.

Right as an aspen lefe she gan to quake.

Make a virtue of necessity.

By nature, men love newfangledness.

There's never a new fashion but it's old.

We little know the things for which we pray.

There's no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.

He is gentle that doeth gentle deeds.

Yet do not miss the moral, my good men. For Saint Paul says that all that’s written well Is written down some useful truth to tell. Then take the wheat and let the chaff lie still.

But manly set the world on sixe and sevene; And, if thou deye a martir, go to hevene.

One shouldn't be too inquisitive in life Either about God's secrets or one's wife.

Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie.

A love grown old is not the love once new.

He that loveth God will do diligence to please God by his works, and abandon himself, with all his might, well for to do.

Nowhere so busy a man as he there was And yet he seemed busier than he was.

Purity in body and heart May please some--as 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.

The gretteste clerkes been noght wisest men.

Hyt is not al golde that glareth.

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.

Nature, the vicar of the Almighty Lord.

Murder will out, this my conclusion.

Habit maketh no monk, ne wearing of gilt spurs maketh no knight.

But Christ's lore and his apostles twelve, He taught and first he followed it himself.

That he is gentil that doth gentil dedis.