Geoffrey Chaucer Quotes (61 Quotes)

And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche.

Be nat wrooth, my lord, though that I pleye. Ful ofte in game a sooth I have herd seye!

If gold rusts, what then can iron do?

No empty handed man can lure a bird

And to the god of love thus seyde he
With pitous voys, 'O lord, now youres is
My spirit, which that oughte youres be.

'My lige lady, generally,' quod he, 'Wommen desyren to have sovereyntee As well over hir housbond as hir love.'

Ful wys is he that can himselven knowe (Very wise is he that can know himself.)

By nature, men love newfangledness.

We know little of the things for which we pray.

Til crowes feet be growe under your ye.

Murder will out, this my conclusion.

By God, if women had but written stories, As have these clerks within their oratories, They would have written of men more wickedness Than all the race of Adam could redress.

The greatest scholars are not usually the wisest people.

And when a beest is deed, he hath no peyne But man after his deeth moot wepe and pleyne.

She wolde wepe, if that she sawe a mous Caught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde. Of smale houndes had she, that she fedde With rosted flesh, or milk and waster-breed. But sore weep she if oon of hem were deed.

The Iyf so short, the craft so long to lerne, Thassay so hard, so sharp the conquenng. .... For out of olde feldes, as men seith, Cometh al this newe corn fro yeer to yere And out of olde bokes, in good feith, Cometh al this newe science that men lere.

Women desire six things: They want their husbands to be brave, wise, rich, generous, obedient to wife, and lively in bed.

It is nought good a sleping hound to wake.

The guilty think all talk is of themselves.

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.

He loved chivalrye Trouthe and honour, freedom and curteisye.

'Thou lokest as thou woldest finde an hare, For ever up-on the ground I see thee stare.'

Time and tide wait for no man.

Well lov'd he in the morn a sop in wine.

If no love is, O god, what fele I so?

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

That if gold rust, what shall iron do For if a priest be foul, in whom we trust, No wonder is a lewd man to rust.

HYD, Absolon, they gilte tresses clere Ester, ley thou thy meknesse al a-doun Hyd, Jonathas, al thy frendly manere Penalopee, and Marcia Catoun, Mak of your wyfhod no comparisoun Hyde ye your beautes, Isoude and Eleyne, Alceste is here, that al that may desteyne. Thy faire bodye, let hit net appere, Lavyne and thou, Lucresse of Rome toun, And Polixene, that boghte love so dere, Eek Cleopatre, with al thy passioun, Hyde ye your trouthe in love and your renoun And thou, Tisbe, that hast for love swich peyne Alceste is here, that al that may desteyne. Herro, Dido, Laudomia, alle in-fere, Eek Phyllis, hanging for thy Demophoun, And Canace, espyed by thy chere, Ysiphile, betrayed with Jasoun, Mak of your trouthe in love no boft ne soun Nor Ypermistre or Adriane, ne pleyne Alceste is here, that al that may desteyne.

Somwhat he lipsed, for his wantownesse To make hls English swete up-on his tonge.

But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve He taughte, but first he folwed it him-selve.

No-wher so bisy a man as he ther nas And yet he semed bisier than he was.

The gretteste clerkes been noght the wysest men.

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

People can die of mere imagination.

Whoso will pray, he must fast and be clean, And fat his soul, and make his body lean.

He was as fresh as is the month of May.

We little know the things for which we pray.

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.

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.

Men love . . . newfangledness.

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

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.

The life so short, the crafts so long to learn.

His parishens* devoutly would he teach.

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

But al thyng which shineth as the gold Nis nat gold, as that I have herd it told

But for the love of god, at my preyinge,
Go henne a-way, for certes, my deyinge
Wol thee disese, and I mot nedes deye;
Ther-for go wey, ther is no more to seye.

What is bettre than wisdom Womman. And what is bettre than a good womman No-thing.

Now, thonked be god, he may goon in the daunce
Of hem that Love list febly for to avaunce!

The first virtue, son, if thou wilt learn, Is to restrain and keep well thy tongue.