Oh, the brave Music of a distant drum!
OMAR KHAYYAM
In monasteries, seminaries, retreats and synagogues, they fear hell and seek paradise. Those who know the mysteries of God never let that seed be planted in their souls.
More Omar Khayyam Quotes
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Oh, the brave Music of a distant drum!
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Oh! My beloved! fill the cup, that clears to-day of past regrets and future fears.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
The moving finger writes; and having writ, moves on.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
When I want to understand what is happening today or try to decide what will happen tomorrow, I look back.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
And this I know; whether the one True Light Kindle to Love, or Wrath consume me quite, One flash of it within the Tavern caught Better than in the temple lost outright.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Myself when young did eagerly frequent doctor and saint, and heard great argument about it and about: but evermore came out by the same door as in I went.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Drink! For you know not whence you came nor why.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
I hide my distress, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die. Wine! Wine, roses, music and your indifference to my sadness, my loved-one!
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Yes, the first morning of creation wrote what the last dawn of reckoning shall read.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
As far as you can avoid it, do not give grief to anyone. Never inflict your rage on another. If you hope for eternal rest, feel the pain yourself; but don’t hurt others.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
By Fate full many a heart has been undone, And many a sprightly rose made woe-begone; Plume thee not on thy lusty youth and strength: Full many a bud is blasted ere its bloom.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
The Revelations of Devout and Learn’d Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn’d, Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep They told their comrades, and to Sleep return’d.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
