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 KHAYYAMJustice is the soul of the universe.
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 -
The value of three things is justly appreciated by all classes of men: youth, by the old; health, by the diseased; and wealth, by the needy.
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 -
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 -
Think not I dread to see my spirit fly, Through the dark gates of fell mortality; Death has no terrors when the life is true; ‘Tis living ill that makes us fear to die.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
I wonder what the vintners buy one half so precious as the stuff they sell.
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 -
Oh! My beloved! fill the cup, that clears to-day of past regrets and future fears.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!
OMAR KHAYYAM -
A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.
OMAR KHAYYAM -
Fools, your reward is neither here nor there.
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 -
Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To fly-and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.
OMAR KHAYYAM