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 KHAYYAMAlas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youths sweet-scented Manuscript should close!
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 -
Up from Earth’s Centre through the Seventh Gate rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate; And many a Knot unravel’d by the Road; But not the Master-knot of Human Fate.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
If I don’t enjoy myself now, when shall I?
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Tomorrow! – Why, tomorrow I may be Myself with yesterday’s sev’n thousand years.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
The wine-cup is the little silver well, Where truth, if truth there be, doth dwell.
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 -
But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Checker-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Indeed the Idols I have loved so long, have done my credit in this World much wrong; have drowned my Glory in a shallow Cup, and sold my Reputation for a Song.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
I wonder what the vintners buy one half so precious as the stuff they sell.
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 -
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!
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 -
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 -
This clay, so strong of heart, of sense so fine, Surely such clay is more than half divine–‘Tis only fools speak evil of the clay, The very stars are made of clay like mine.
OMAR KHAYYAM