Omar Khayyám quotes

Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life. (Omar Khayyám)
You know, my friends, with what a brave carouse I made a Second Marriage in my house; favored old barren reason from my bed, and took the daughter of the vine to spouse.
Omar Khayyám
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 Khayyám
The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon Turns Ashes - or it prospers; and anon, Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face, Lighting a little hour or two - is gone.
Omar Khayyám
Into this Universe, and Why not knowing Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing; And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.
Omar Khayyám
Wake! For the Sun, who scatter'd into flight The Stars before him from the Field of Night, Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light.
Omar Khayyám
A Moment's Halt - a momentary taste Of Being from the Well amid the Waste - And Lo! - the phantom Caravan has reach'd The Nothing it set out from - Oh, make haste!
Omar Khayyám
A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.
Omar Khayyám
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 Khayyám
Whoever thinks algebra is a trick in obtaining unknowns has thought it in vain. No attention should be paid to the fact that algebra and geometry are different in appearance. Algebras (jabbre and maqabeleh) are geometric facts which are proved by propositions five and six of Book two of Elements.
Omar Khayyám
Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd Of the Two Worlds so wisely - they are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust. (Omar Khayyám)
I sent my Soul through the Invisible, Some letter of that After-life to spell: And after many days my Soul return'd And said, "Behold, Myself am Heav'n and Hell.
Omar Khayyám
Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter - and the Bird is on the Wing.
Omar Khayyám
And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky, Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die, Lift not thy hands to It for help --for It Rolls impotently on as Thou or I.
Omar Khayyám
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 Khayyám
Ah, my Belov'ed fill the Cup that clears To-day Past Regrets and Future Fears: To-morrow! - Why, To-morrow I may be Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years.
Omar Khayyám
A Hair perhaps divides the False and True; Yes; and a single Alif were the clue - Could you but find it - to the Treasure-house, And peradventure to The Master too.
Omar Khayyám
Indeed the Idols I have loved so long Have done my credit in this World much wrong: Have drown'd my Glory in a shallow Cup And sold my Reputation for a Song.
Omar Khayyám
Ah, but my Computations, People say, Reduced the Year to better reckoning? - Nay 'Twas only striking from the Calendar Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday.
Omar Khayyám
Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose, And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine, And many a Garden by the Water blows.
Omar Khayyám
Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest; The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest. (Omar Khayyám)
Then to the lip of this poor earthen Urn I lean'd, the Secret of my Life to learn: And Lip to Lip it murmur'd - "While you live Drink! - for, once dead, you never shall return".
Omar Khayyám
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 Khayyám
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 Khayyám
When You and I behind the Veil are past, Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last, Which of our Coming and Departure heeds As the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast.
Omar Khayyám