Omar Khayyam Quotes

Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses.

Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.

Reflect, ere you spurn me, that youth at his sides Wears wings; and once gone, all pursuit he derides.

Youth passes like a dream.

Like the withered roses of a once gay garland, the feelings of youth command in age a melancholy interest.

... it occurred to me that never again would he be seven years, one month and six days old, so we had better catch these moments while we can.

When the playing is over, one can sense that one's youth has been spent playing a game, and now both the game and youth are gone.

Time marches on and sooner or later you realize it is marching across your face.

Though one were fair as roses His beauty clouds and closes.

Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart; The end lost in dream, They float past our view, We only watch their glad, early start. Freighted with hope, Crimsoned with joy, We scatter the leaves of our opening rose; Their widening scope, Their distant employ, We never shall know. And the stream as it flows Sweeps them away, Each one is gone Ever beyond into infinite ways. We alone stay While years hurry on, The flower fared forth, though its fragrance still stays.

The hour-hand of life.

You're walking through a field all by yourself one day in spring and this sweet little bear cub with velvet fur and shiny little eyes comes walking along. And he says to you, 'Hi, there, little lady. Want to tumble with me?' So you and the bear spend the whole day in each other's arms, tumbling down this clover-covered hill. Nice, huh?

Only to youth will spring be spring.

Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

For thogh we slepe, or wake, or rome, or ryde, Ay fleeth the tyme; it nyl no man abyde.

The fairest things have fleetest end, Their scent survives their close: But the rose's scent is bitterness To him that loved the rose.