Quotes About Medieval

Marketing is not bragging, and touting one's wares is not evil. The baker in the medieval town square must holler, 'Fresh rolls!' if he hopes to feed the townfolk.

Today's builders and town planners believe people inhabit 'places'. Yet medieval towns were perfect examples of what planners seek: densely populated, walkable communities in which people ate local, seasonal food, and rich and poor lived in close proximity.

In the ancient world, taxes were paid in kind: landowners paid in crops or livestock; the landless paid with their labor. Taxing trade made medieval monarchs rich and funded the early-modern state.

The top 400 people own more wealth now than the bottom 185 million Americans taken together. That is a medieval structure.

Bologna is the best city in Italy for food and has the least number of tourists. With its medieval beauty, it has it all.

Even theologians, even the great theologians of the thirteenth century, even Saint Thomas Aquinas himself did not trust to faith alone, or assume the existence of God.

Fulk the Black, Count of Anjou and founder of the Angevin dynasty that later ruled England, came on pilgrimage after he had burned his wife alive in her wedding-dress having found her guilty of adultery with a swineherd.

John of Bavaria, realizing the game was up and his throwing in the priesthood and marrying had just wasted everyone's time, made Philip the Good his heir. He was shortly thereafter assassinated in The Hague with a poisoned prayer book (yes, really – nothing can beat the fifteenth century).

The chances of anybody today being a 'pure' example of any specific medieval 'race' must be close to zero, quite aside from the category being patently meaningless.

In medieval India, the Hindu Vaishnava system of bhakti-yoga (devotional yoga) developed highly sophisticated categories of relation (rasa) to God, including santa (awe and reverence), vatsalya (parental attitude toward God), dasya (servant of God), sakhya (being friends and playmates with God), and madburya (passionate, romantic love).

Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise king born of all England.

Sir Thomas Malory

And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred.

Though the Philistines may jostle, you will rank as an apostle in the high aesthetic band,If you walk down Piccadilly with a poppy or a lily in your medieval hand.And everyone will say,As you walk your flowery way,"If he's content with a vegetable love, which would certainly not suit me,Why, what a most particularly pure young man this pure young man must be!"

Robin Hood's Lament"?' Every archer knew that tune.

The English chevauchée was a tactic to destroy a country's power, to starve the lords of taxes, to burn their

You're to grovel." Æthelwold spoke for the first time. He grinned at me. We were not exactly friends, but we had drunk together often enough and he seemed to like me. "You're to dress like a girl," Æthelwold continued, "go on your knees and be humiliated." "And

Houve um tempo em que Sansum se ajoelhava diante de mim e beijava minha espada

I could hardly see him in the darkness, but knew he wore a leather jerkin and had a sword at his side. The rest of us were in leather and mail, had helmets, and carried shields, axes, swords, or spears. Tonight we would kill. Sihtric

The church, we're to meet in the church. Do try to wipe that blood off your mail, Uhtred. We're an embassy!

The first stone, thrown by Hellgiver, crashed through the roof of a dyer's house close to St Brieuc's church and took off the heads of an English man-at-arms and the dyer's wife. A joke went through the garrison that the two bodies were so crushed together by the boulder that they would go on coupling throughout eternity.

Bishop Asser was an earsling, which is anything that drops out of an arse.

The Reign of Edward III by W. Mark Ormrod; and Edward III by the same

Wyn eal gedreas. Isso é parte de outro poema que às vezes ouço ser cantado no meu castelo. É um poema triste, e portanto um poema verdadeiro. Wyrd bið ful ãræd, diz ele. O destino é inexorável. E wyn eal gedreas. Toda alegria morreu.