“لا تعجب لشيء، إن للحقيقة و جهين، و للناس أيضا”
“إن كنت لا تعرف الحب ، فما يجديك شروق الشمس أو غروبها ؟”
“لست من أولئك الذين لا يعدو ايمانهم ان يكون خوفاً من يوم الحساب , ولاتعدو صلاتهم أن تكون سجوداً .طريقتي في الصلاة؟ أتأمل وردة ,أعد النجوم ,أتدلّه بجمال الخليقة بكمال نظامها وترتيبها ,بالانسان أجمل ما أبدع الخلّاق ,بعقله المتعطش الى المعرفة ,بقلبه المتعطش الى الحب, بحواسه كل حواسه متيقظة كانت أو مترعة .”
“ليسَ من فقير من عرف أن يُبقي رغباته بسيطه”
“ ما اسهل التظاهر بالولاء, فليس اصدق منه في الافواه الكاذبة .”
“الطريق لا يحسب بنهايته وحسب , ففي كل رحلة يصل المرء الى مكان ما , وفي كل خطوة يمكن اكتشاف وجه خفي من وجوه دنيانا, ويكفيه أن ينظر وأن يتمنى وأن يصدق وأن يحب”
“لستُ املك للأمر شيئاً ، ولست تملك شيئاً ، وهناك أوقات يكون فيها أي قرار سيئاً ، ويجب اختيار القرار الذي يجلب أقل مقدار من الندم”
“أستطيع أن أشهد بأنه ما من حرب هي نزهة. غير أن الأمم نسّاءة والبارود مُسكِر.”
“غالبًا ما يتحاشى الناس في بداية علاقةٍ ما الأسئلة المحرجة لأنهم يخشون أن يحطِّموا ذلك البناء الهشَّ الذي أقاموه لتوِّهم ملتزمين ألف احتياط.”
“إن للزمن لوجهين، إن له لبعدين، فطوله بمعدل الشمس، وارتفاعه بمعدل الأهواء والشهوات”
“سمرقند، أجمل وجه أدارته الدنيا يوماً نحو الشمس”
“ليس من فقير إذا عرف أن يبقي رغباته بسيطة”
“عمر الخيام: اترى ما يدهشنى فى العلوم؟ اننى اجد فيها اسمى الشعر: فى الرياضيات نشوة الأعداد، وفى الفلك همسة الكون الغامضة. وأما الحقيقة فالرحمة الرحمة من الحديث عنها!!”
“God, she was beautiful - my first image of the Orient - a woman such as only the desert poet knew how to praise: her face was the sun, her hair the protecting shadow, her eyes fountains of cool water, her body the most slender of palm-trees and her smile a mirage.”
“انهم لا يعلمون شيئا
ولا يريدون أن يعلموا شيئاً
أترى هؤلاء الجهلة، انهم يهيمنون على العالم
وان لم تكن منهم دعوك كافراً
أهملهم يا خيام وأتبع سبيلك”
“أليس الفردوس هو أن نعيش أنا وهي في الغرب على إيقاع الشرق؟”
“ ما أسهل التظاهر بالولاء، فليس أصدقّ منه في الأفواه الكاذبة.”
“ليس للبحر قطّ من جيران ، ولا للأمير قطّ من اصدقاء ؟”
“وأما عمر فالحياة عنده مختلفة. إنها لذة العلم وعلم اللذة”
“ليس من ركن واحد فى ديار الاسلام استطيع ان اعيش فيه بمنجاة من الاستبداد”
“ينبغي أن يوارب المرء في حديثه مع القضاة والسلاطين، لا مع الخالق. الله أكبر، وليس له في مجاملاتنا وانحناءاتنا. لقد خلقني متفكرًا، وعليه فإنني أتفكر وأقدّم بين يديه ثمرة تفكيري جِهارًا.”
“Life is like a fire. Flames which the passer-by forgets. Ashes which the wind scatters. A man lived.”
“الحياة أشبه بالحريق. لَهبٌ ينساه العابر، ورمادٌ تذروه الريح،وإنسانٌ كان قد عاش”
“هل تخاف اليوم الآخر يا خيام؟
ولم أخاف؟ فبعد الموت إما العدم وإما الرحمة
وما ارتكبت من سوء؟
مهما تكن ذنوبك عظيمة، فعفو الله أعظم.”
“لقد عشت لحظة نادرة من السعادة وأود وقفها مادامت لم تفسد لأستعيدها وهي لا تزال على حالها”
“السعيد من لم يظهر قطُّ إلى الدنيا.”
“Tu demandes d'où vient notre souffle de vie.
S'il fallait résumer une trop longue histoire,
Je dirais qu'il surgit du fond de l'océan,
Puis soudain l'océan l'engloutit à nouveau.
Omar Khayyam”
“- أتكون الزنديق الذي يصفه بعضهم؟
- إني أحذر تفاني الأتقياء، لكني لم أقل يوماً إن الواحد الصمد اثنان
- هل خطر ذلك على بالك يوماً ؟
- أبداً، والله شهيد عليّ
- هذا يكفيني، وهو يكفي الخالق على ما أظن، لكنه لا يكفي العامة، إنهم يتربصون بأقوالك وبكل حركاتك، كما يتربصون بأقوالي وحركاتي، وبأقوال الأمراء وحركاتهم.”
“إني مقتنع أشد الاقتناع بأنه إذا لم يتوصل الشرق في بداية القرن هذا إلى الاستيقاظ فإن الغرب لن يتمكن قريبا من النوم.”
“When faced with a chaotic and convoluted situation, one always thinks that it will take centuries to sort it out. Suddenly a man appears and as if by magic, the tree we thought was doomed takes on new life and starts bearing leaves and fruits and giving shade." (Shireen in Samarkand)”
“I've been in love with you since the very beginning. You asked why there isn't anyone else in my life, and the reason... is you.”
“But now she could not bear the way she sounded. She was not a person anyone could love.
...
And thus fled to her room. There she wept, bitterly, an ugly sound punctuated by great gulps. She could not stop herself. She could hear his footsteps in the passage outside. He walked up and down, up and down.
'Come in,' she prayed. 'Oh dearest, do come in.'
But he did not come in. He would not come in. This was the man she had practically contracted to give away her fortune to. He offered to marry her as a favour and then he would not even come into her room.
Later, she could smell him make himself a sweet pancake for his lunch. She thought this a childish thing to eat, and selfish, too. If he were a gentleman he would now come to her room and save her from the prison her foolishness had made for her. He did not come. She heard him pacing in his room.”
“And then I saw it—not below, where I had looked, but over my head, a vast and noble curve stretching away to either side, with white cloud flying between ourselves and it, a world all speckled over with blue and green like the egg of a wild bird.”
“One part of my life was given over to the service of destruction; it belonged to hate, to enmity, to killing. But life remained in me. And that in itself is enough, of itself almost a purpose and a way. I will work in myself and be ready; I will bestir my hands and my thoughts. I will not take myself very seriously, nor push on when sometimes I should like to be still. There are many things to be built and almost everything to repair; it is enough that I work to dig out again what was buried during the years of shells and machine guns. Not every one need be a pioneer; there is employment for feebler hands, lesser powers. It is there I mean to look for my place. Then the dead will be silenced and the past not pursue me any more; it will assist me instead. How simple it is—but how long it has taken to arrive there! And I might still be wandering in the wilderness, have fallen victim to the wire snares and the detonators, had Ludwig’s death not gone up before us like a rocket, lighting to us the way. We despaired when we saw how that great stream of feeling common to us all—that will to a new life shorn of follies, a life recaptured on the confines of death—did not sweep away before it all survived half-truth and self-interest, so to make a new course for itself, but instead of that merely trickled away in the marshes of forgetfulness, was lost among the bogs of fine phrases, and dribbled away along the ditches of social activities, of cares and occupations. But to-day I know that all life is perhaps only a getting ready, a ferment in the individual, in many cells, in many channels, each for himself; and if the cells and channels of a tree but take up and carry farther the onward urging sap, there will emerge at the last rustling and sunlit branches—crowns of leaves and freedom. I will begin. It will not be that consummation of which we dreamed in our youth and that we expected after the years out there. It will be a road like other roads, with stones and good stretches, with places torn up, with villages and fields—a road of toil. And I shall be alone. Perhaps sometimes I shall find some one to go with me a stage of the journey—but for all of it, probably no one. And I may often have to hump my pack still, when my shoulders are already weary; often hesitate at the crossways and boundaries; often have to leave something behind me, often stumble and fall. But I will get up again and not just lie there; I will go on and not look back. —Perhaps I shall never be really happy again; perhaps the war has destroyed that, and no doubt I shall always be a little inattentive and nowhere quite at home—but I shall probably never be wholly unhappy either—for something will always be there to sustain me, be it merely my own hands, or a tree, or the breathing earth. The”
“...women are elephants and watch the way you say that in front of them because they'll think you're calling them fat and there's no coming back from that moment. But they hoard. They say they don't, but they do. We think that if something's not spoken about again, it goes away. It doesn't. Nothing goes away just like that...”
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