All Sayings

A vernycle hadde he sowed upon his cappe. / His walet lay biforn hym in his lappe, / Bretful of pardoun, come from Rome al hoot.

He was a janglere and a goliardeys, / And that was moost of synne and harlotries.

For of his speche, which that he herde of old, / He was a verray Epicurien.

And everich was worth to been an alderman, / For they hadde ynough of catel and of rente.

Wel koude he rede a lessoun or a storie, / But al above that he koude singe.

He was a good felawe, and by my trouthe, / For aught I woot, he was a somnour.

He wolde have the fyn for his concubyn, / A twelf-monthe, and excuse hym atte fulle.

And if that he forbede it, wolde he say, / 'A man may do no synne, but if he may / Nat touche a womman, for al his lyf.'

He was an outridere, that loved venerie; / A manly man, to been an abbot able.

Ful many a deyntee hors hadde he in stable, / And whan he rood, men myghte his brydel heere / Gynglen in a whistlynge wynd as cleere.

His palfrey was as broun as is a berye.

He was a shrewe, and a greet market-betere.

In al the parisshe wif ne was ther noon / That to the offrynge bifore hire sholde goon.

She hadde passed many a straunge strem; / Hire hosen weren of fyn scarlet reed, / Ful streite yteyd, and shoes ful moyste and newe.

And trewely she hadde a greet talent / To laughe and for to carpe in compaignye.

She koude muchel of wandrynge by the weye. / Gat-tothed was she, soothly for to seye.

All that I have written seems like straw to me.

To one who has faith, no explanation is necessary. To one without faith, no explanation is possible.

The greatest joy for a man is to defeat his enemies, to drive them before him, to ride their horses and take away their possessions, to see the faces of those who were dear to them wet with tears, and to clasp their wives and daughters in his arms.

It is not enough that I succeed, everyone else must fail.