Omar Khayyam — "The moving finger writes; and, having writ, moves on."
The moving finger writes; and, having writ, moves on.
The moving finger writes; and, having writ, moves on.
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"Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain—This Life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies."
"The end of man is dust, and his life is but a breath; let him enjoy what he has, for he knows not what awaits him."
"Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine Must drown the memory of that insolence!"
"For let us make our Fête of to-day, for to-morrow we are gone, and what we have enjoyed is gone, and we are gone, and gone is our memory too."
"And that inverted Bowl we call the Sky, Whereunder crawling cooped we live and die, Lift not your hands to It for help – for It As impotently moves as you or I."
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