Omar Khayyam — "I sent my soul through the invisible, some letter of that after-life to spell."
I sent my soul through the invisible, some letter of that after-life to spell.
I sent my soul through the invisible, some letter of that after-life to spell.
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"And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour—well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the stuff they sell."
"For in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day, I watched the Potter thumping his wet Clay: And with its all obliterated Tongue It murmur'd—'Gently, Brother, gently, pray!'"
"A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread – and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness – Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!"
"The wise man is he who enjoys the present, for the future is uncertain and the past is gone."
"Ah, fill the Cup:—what boots it to repeat How Time is slipping underneath our Feet: Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday, Why fret about them if To-day be sweet!"
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