For of fortunes sharp adversitee The worst kynde of infortune is…

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.

Sourced, Troilus and Criseyde
(1385)

Book 3, l. 1625-1628

Other Geoffrey Chaucer Quotes

Oon ere it herde, at tothir out it wente. - View Quote Details on Oon ere it herde, at tothir out it wente.
And for ther is so gret diversite
In Englissh and in writyng of oure tonge,
So prey I God that non myswrite the,
Ne the mysmetre for defaute of tonge;
And red wherso thow be, or elles songe,
That thow be understonde, God I biseche! - View Quote Details on And for ther is so gret diversite
In Englissh and in…
Ther nis no werkman, whatsoevere he be,
That may bothe werke wel and hastily. - View Quote Details on Ther nis no werkman, whatsoevere he be,
That may bothe werke…
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. - View Quote Details on The lyf so short, the craft so longe to lerne.
Th’…
For him was lever han at his beddes hed
A twenty bokes, clothed in black or red,
Of Aristotle, and his philosophie,
Than robes riche, or fidel, or sautrie.
But all be that he was a philosophre,
Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre. - View Quote Details on For him was lever han at his beddes hed
A twenty…
Forbede us thing, and that desiren we;
Preesse on us faste, and thanne wol we flee.
With daunger oute we al oure chaffare:
Greet prees at market maketh dere ware,
And too greet chepe is holden at litel pris. - View Quote Details on Forbede us thing, and that desiren we;
Preesse on us faste,…
For which he wex a litel red for shame,
Whan he the peple upon him herde cryen,
That to beholde it was a noble game,
How sobreliche he caste doun his yen.
Criseyda gan al his chere aspyen,
And let so softe it in her herte sinke
That to herself she seyde, “Who yaf me drinke?” - View Quote Details on For which he wex a litel red for shame,
Whan he…
Allas! allas! that evere love was synne! - View Quote Details on Allas! allas! that evere love was synne!
And yet he had a thomb of gold parde. - View Quote Details on And yet he had a thomb of gold parde.
Ful weel she soong the service dyvyne,
Entuned in hir nose ful semely,
And Frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly,
After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe,
For Frenssh of Parys was to hire unknowe. - View Quote Details on Ful weel she soong the service dyvyne,
Entuned in hir nose…