Dead yesterdays and unborn tomorrows, why fret about it, if today be sweet.

Hearts are like tapers, which at beauteous eyes Kindle a flame of love that never dies; And beauty is a flame, where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.

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.

The thoughtful soul to solitude retires.

Justice is the soul of the universe.

Oh! My beloved! fill the cup, that clears to-day of past regrets and future fears.

The secret must be kept from all non-people. The mystery must be hidden from all idiots.

We are in truth but pieces on this chess board of life, which in the end we leave, only to drop one by one into the grave of nothingness.

Drink! for you know not when you came, nor why; Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.

Living Life Tomorrow's fate, though thou be wise, Thou canst not tell nor yet surmise; Pass, therefore, not today in vain, For it will never come again.

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.

I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.

But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Checker-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays.

I can’t reveal the mystery to either saint or sinner; I can’t state at length what I’ve said curtly; I achieve an altered state that I can’t explain; I have a secret that I cannot share.

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.

Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry.

I hide my distress, just likethe blessed birds hide themselveswhen they are preparing to die. Wine! Wine, roses, music and yourindifference to my sadness, my loved-one!

Fools, your reward is neither here nor there.

The unbeliever knows his Koran best.

Heaven but the vision of fulfilled desire, and Hell the shadow from a soul on fire.

To friends and eke to foes true kindness show; No kindly heart unkindly deeds will do; Harshness will alienate a bosom friend. And kindness reconcile a deadly foe.

Ah Love! could you and I with him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire Would we not shatter it to bits-and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire?

Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai Whose portals are alternate Night and Day, How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp Abode his destin'd Hour and went his way.

He who has one enemy shall meet him everywhere.