Knight's Tale, A

Knight's Tale, A quotes

73 total quotes (ID: 323)

Geoffrey Chaucer
Multiple Characters
Wat Falhurst
William Thatcher


William: Oi sir, what are you doing?
Chaucer: Uh... trudging. You know, trudging? [pause] To trudge: the slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on.
William: Uhhh... were you robbed?
Chaucer: [laughs] Funny really, yes, but at the same time a huge resounding no. It's more of an... involuntary vow of poverty... really.


William: Wat, you remember church as a boy, the fear, the passion! That what she makes me feel. And for that I say my rosary to Jocelyn and no one else.
Wat: William, that's blasphemous.

William: Where will we live? In my hovel? With the pigs inside during the winter to keep from freezing?
Jocelyn: Yes, William. With the pigs.

William: You favor cathedrals.
Jocelyn: I come for confession. And the glass... A riot of color in a dreary grey world.

William: You were never robbed, were you?
Chaucer: Look, I have a gambling problem. I can't help myself. And these people will - quite literally - take off clothes of your back.
William: What are you expecting us to do about it?
Peter The Pardoner of Rouen: He assured us that you, his liege, would pay us.
William: And who are you?
Peter The Pardoner of Rouen: Peter, a humble pardoner and purveyor of religious relics.
William: How much does he owe you?
Simon The Summoner of Rouen: Ten gold florins.
Wat: You lanky git! :[attacks Chaucer]
William: Hey! Hey, Wat - let him go! [Pulls Wat off him]
Chaucer: [Holding injured hand] OW!
William: What would you do to him, if I was to refuse?
Simon The Summoner of Rouen: We, on behalf of the lord God, would take it out of his flesh, so that he may understand that gambling is a sin.
Chaucer: :[pleading] Oh, come on, please, Will...
[Summoner is piqued at this slip of the tongue; Chaucer recovers]
Chaucer:...please, will you help me, Sir Ulrich? I promise you won't regret it.
William: I don't have the money.
[Chaucer's face falls]
William: Release him. For God's sake, give him back his clothes, and you'll get it.
Simon The Summoner of Rouen: Done.

William: Your name lady, I still need to hear it.
Jocelyn: Sir hunter, you persist.
William: Or perhaps angels have no names, only beautiful faces.

[Standing over Adhemar]
Wat: You have been weighed.
Roland: You have been measured.
Kate: And you have absolutely...
Chaucer: Been found wanting.
William: Welcome to a New World. God save you, if it is right that he should do so.

[In a letter to Jocelyn] It is strange to think, I haven't seen you since a month. I have seen the new moon, but not you. I have seen sunsets and sunrises, but nothing of your beautiful face. The pieces of my broken heart are so small that they can be passed through the eye of a needle. I miss you like the sun misses the flower; like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct its light to, the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has banished me to. I next compete in the city of Paris, I will find it empty and in the winter if you are not there. Hope guides me, it is what gets me through the day and especially the night. The hope that after you're gone from my sight, it will not be the last time that I look upon you.

[in a letter] I miss you like the sun misses the flower. Like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct it's light to the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has banished me to.

[singing] He's quick, he's funny, he makes me lots of money, Lichtenstein! Lichtenstein!

[Watching Jocelyn enter William's tent at night] Guinevere comes to Lancelot. Bed him well, my lady. Bed him well.

[William, short on cash, is trying to have his broken armor repaired] William: Excuse me-
Kate: Don't work for free.
William: And I can't joust with broken armor.
Kate: Your problem, not mine. Each droplet of sweat has a price on it.
William: :[Pauses, than thinks of something] It's just as well, they said I was daft for even asking.
Kate: Who?
William: Oh, the other armorers.
Kate: Did they say I couldn't do it because I'm a woman?
William: No, they said you were great with horseshoes, but shite with armor. The fact that you were a woman wasn't even mentioned.
[Kate rushes over and grabs the armor from William]

All human activity lies within the artist's scope. [Looks at Wat] Maybe not yours.

All right, I'm about this fonging close mate! I swear to God, Quasimodo! I oughta...

Good people, I missed my introduction! But please... Please I pray you, hear it now, for I would lay rest the grace in my tongue and speak plainly. Days like these are far too rare to cheapen with heavy handed words, and so, I'm afraid without any ado whatsoever... Excuse me My Lord... Here he is, one of your own, born a stone's throw from this very stadium, and here before you now, the son of John Thatcher... Sir Wiiiiiilliam Thatcheeer!