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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

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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
Three
Classes
Things
Appreciation
Men
Youth
Value
Health
Justly
Wealth
Diseased
Class
Needy
Values
Appreciated

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Algebras (jabbre and maqabeleh) are geometric facts which are proved by propositions five and six of Book two of Elements.
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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 scattered, and their mouths are stopped with Dust.
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If I don't enjoy myself now, when shall I?
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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.
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To be free of belief and unbelief is my religion.
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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.
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The rose that once has bloomed forever dies.
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Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youths sweet-scented Manuscript should close!
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Tomorrow! - Why, tomorrow I may be Myself with yesterday's sev'n thousand years.
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How sad, a heart that does not know how to love, that does not know what it is to be drunk with love. If you are not in love, how can you enjoy the blinding light of the sun, the soft light of the moon?
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Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End!
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Drink! For you know not whence you came nor why.
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Oh, the brave Music of a distant drum!
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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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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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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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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.
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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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Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry.
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There was a door to which I found no key: There was the veil through which I might not see.
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