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Love is blind.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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That well by reason men it call may The daisie, or els the eye of the day, The emprise, and floure of floures all.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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By nature, men love newfangledness.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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And brought of mighty ale a large quart.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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People can die of mere imagination.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Murder will out, this my conclusion.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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He helde about him alway, out of drede, A world of folke.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Ful wys is he that kan hymselven knowe!
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Women desire six things: They want their husbands to be brave, wise, rich, generous, obedient to wife, and lively in bed.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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A Clerk ther was of Oxenforde also.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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He coude songes make, and wel endite.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Harde is his herte that loveth noughtIn Mey, ...
Geoffrey Chaucer
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The life so short, the crafts so long to learn.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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The greatest scholars are not usually the wisest people.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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That he is gentil that doth gentil dedis.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Loke who that is most vertuous alway, Prive and apert, and most entendeth ay To do the gentil dedes that he can, And take him for the gretest gentilman.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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For of fortunes sharp adversitee The worst kynde of infortune is this, A man to han ben in prosperitee, And it remembren, whan it passed is.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Fie on possession, But if a man be vertuous withal.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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The lyf so short, the craft so longe to lerne. Th’ assay so hard, so sharp the conquerynge, The dredful joye, alwey that slit so yerne; Al this mene I be love.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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For out of olde feldes, as men seith, Cometh al this new corn fro yeer to yere; And out of olde bokes, in good feith, Cometh al this newe science that men lere.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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For thogh we slepe, or wake, or rome, or ryde, Ay fleeth the tyme; it nyl no man abyde.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Soun is noght but air ybroken, And every speche that is spoken, Loud or privee, foul or fair, In his substaunce is but air; For as flaumbe is but lighted smoke, Right so soun is air ybroke.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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Of all the floures in the mede, Than love I most these floures white and rede, Soch that men callen daisies in our toun.
Geoffrey Chaucer
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But Cristes lore, and his apostles twelve, He taught; but first he folwed it himselve.
Geoffrey Chaucer
