To be free of belief and unbelief is my religion.
OMAR KHAYYAMBetter be jocund with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.
More Omar Khayyam Quotes
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Ah Love! could you and I with him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire Would we not shatter it to bits-and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire?
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Justice is the soul of the universe.
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 -
Here’s to the man Who owns the land That bears the grapes That makes the wine That tastes as good As this does.
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 -
Drink! for you know not when you came, nor why; Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
It’s too bad if a heart lacks fire, and is deprived of the light of a heart ablaze. The day on which you are without passionate love is the most wasted day of your life.
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 -
Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup Before Life’s Liquor in its Cup be dry.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
A hair divides what is false and true.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Men talk of heaven, – there is no heaven but here; Men talk of hell, – there is no hell but here; Men of hereafters talk and future lives, – O love, there is no other life – but here.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Hearts are like tapers, which at beauteous eyes Kindle a flame of love that never dies; And beauty is a flame, where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
I wonder what the vintners buy one half so precious as the stuff they sell.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
To-day is thine to spend, but not to-morrow; Counting on morrows breedeth bankrupt sorrow: O squander not this breath that Heaven hath lent thee; Make not too sure another breath to borrow.
OMAR KHAYYAM