I came like Water, and like Wind I go.
OMAR KHAYYAMAwake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup Before Life’s Liquor in its Cup be dry.
More Omar Khayyam Quotes
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We are thinking about bad only those who are worse than we are, and those who are better than us … I’m just not up to us … One does not follow it than smell roses. Another of the bitter herbs will produce honey. Give bread to one – will remember forever. Another life donation – do not understand.
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 -
My friend, let’s not think of tomorrow, but let’s enjoy this fleeting moment of life.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Tomorrow! – Why, tomorrow I may be Myself with yesterday’s sev’n thousand years.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
To wisely live your life, you don’t need to know much just remember two main rules for the beginning: You better starve, than eat whatever And better be alone, than with whoever.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Give me a flagon of red wine, a book of verses, a loaf of bread, and a little idleness. If with such store I might sit by thy dear side in some lonely place, I should deem myself happier than a king in his kingdom.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Into this universe, and why not knowing Nor whence, like water willy-nilly flowing; And out of it, as wind along the wate, I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End!
OMAR KHAYYAM -
The rose that once has bloomed forever dies.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
For in and out, above, about, below, ‘Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show, Played in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
The unbeliever knows his Koran best.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Think, in this batter’d Caravanserai Whose portals are alternate Night and Day, How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp Abode his destin’d Hour and went his way.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
The wine-cup is the little silver well, Where truth, if truth there be, doth dwell.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Fools, your reward is neither here nor there.
OMAR KHAYYAM