The devil can only destroy those who are already on their way to damnation.
GEOFFREY CHAUCERIf were not foolish young, were foolish old.
More Geoffrey Chaucer Quotes
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In love there is but little rest.
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If love be good, from whence cometh my woe?
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Every honest miller has a golden thumb.
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Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.
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A love grown old is not the love once new.
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Woe to the cook whose sauce has no sting.
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A yokel mind loves stories from of old, Being the kind it can repeat and hold.
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He who accepts his poverty unhurt I’d say is rich although he lacked a shirt. But truly poor are they who whine and fret and covet what they cannot hope to get.
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Many a true word is spoken in jest.
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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.
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But Christ’s lore and his apostles twelve, He taught and first he followed it himself.
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And she was fair as is the rose in May.
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There’s no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.
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That field hath eyen, and the wood hath ears.
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If a man really loves a woman, of course he wouldn’t marry her for the world if he were not quite sure that he was the best person she could possibly marry.
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Make a virtue of necessity.
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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.
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The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears.
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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.
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Love will not be constrain’d by mastery. When mast’ry comes, the god of love anon Beateth his wings, and, farewell, he is gone. Love is a thing as any spirit free.
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He loved chivalry, Truth and honor, freedom and courtesy.
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In the stars is written the death of every man.
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People can die of mere imagination.
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By God, if women had written stories, As clerks had within here oratories, They would have written of men more wickedness Than all the mark of Adam may redress.
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Harde is his heart that loveth nought In May.
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Men love newfangleness.
GEOFFREY CHAUCER