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A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.

Omar Khayyam

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Omar Khayyam
Age: 83 †
Born: 1048
Born: May 15
Died: 1131
Died: December 4
Astrologer
Astronomer
Lyricist
Mathematician
Musician
Philosopher
Physicist
Poet
Writer
Neyshabur
Omar Khayyam
Hakim Omar Khayyám
Loaf
Bread
Thou
Wine
Jugs

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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.
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Why ponder thus the future to foresee, and jade thy brain to vain perplexity? Cast off thy care, leave Allah’s plans to him – He formed them all without consulting thee.
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The Grape that can with Logic absolute The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute: The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute.
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The Stars are setting and the Caravan Starts for the Dawn of Nothing-Oh, make haste!
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The rose that once has bloomed forever dies.
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You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more.
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Drink! For you know not whence you came nor why.
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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.
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To be free of belief and unbelief is my religion.
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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.
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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.
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Drink wine. This is life eternal. This is all that youth will give you. It is the season for wine, roses and drunken friends. Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.
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By Fate full many a heart has been undone, And many a sprightly rose made woe-begone Plume thee not on thy lusty youth and strength: Full many a bud is blasted ere its bloom.
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Tomorrow! - Why, tomorrow I may be Myself with yesterday's sev'n thousand years.
Omar Khayyam
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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.
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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 Khayyam
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Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.
Omar Khayyam
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This body is a tent which for a space Does the pure soul with kingly presence grace When he departs, comes the tent-pitcher, Death, Strikes it, and moves to a new halting-place.
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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.
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Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youths sweet-scented Manuscript should close!
Omar Khayyam