Quotes from Geoffrey Chaucer

Into two ranks did the armies dress themselves, and, when that their names were read aloud, so that in their numbers there would be no guile, each Knight did respond unto his name. Then were the gates shut, and then did the cry resound: "Do now your duty, young Knights proud!

Now malice is of two kinds; that is to say, hardness of heart in wickedness, or else the flesh of a man is so blind that he does not see that he is in Sin, or he cares not that he is in Sin, which is the hardness of the Devil. The other kind of malice is when a man wars against truth, when he knows that it is the truth.

Nor have you well taken heed of the words of Ovid, who says, 'Under the honeyed enticements of the flesh is hidden the venom that slays the soul.

Things that have been foolishly done, in the hope of favorable Fortune, will never come to a good end.' And, as the same Seneca says, 'The more clear and the more shining that Fortune is, the more brittle and the sooner broken is she.

For Seneca says, 'That man who is nourished by Fortune, she makes of him a great fool.

A man's no cuckold if he has no wife.

Certainly a man who dies in the flower of his Excellency when he is sure of his good name, has the greatest honor; then he brings no shame upon himself or upon his friend. Therefore his friend should be happier that he died in such circumstances then if he had died when his name had grown pale with age and his accomplishments were all forgotten Theseus

A wys wyf, if that she kan hir good, Shal beren him on hond the cow is wood.

Brimful of pardons come from Rome, all hot. He had the same small voice a goat has got

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.

Who may be a real fool unless he is in love?

Hard is his herte that loveth nought   85 In May, whan al this mirth is wrought;

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

Upon my word, I tell you faithfully Through life and after death you are my queen; For with my death the whole truth shall be seen. Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly; Their beauty shakes me who was once serene; Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen.

Now peradventure, in that mighty book Which men call heaven, it had come to pass, In stars, when first a living breath he took, That he for love should get his death, alas!

For if a priest be foul, on whom we truste, No wonder is a lewed man to ruste.

I may not telle you al at ones:

His spirit chaunged house and wente ther, As I cam nevere, I kan nat tellen wher.

My sone, God, of his endelees goodnesse, Walled a tonge with teeth and lippes eke, For man sholde him avise what he speeke.

In love there is but little rest.

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

He loved chivalrye Trouthe and honour, freedom and curteisye.

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

Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.