A book of verses underneath the bough, A jug of wine, a loaf of bread-and thou.
Edward Fitzgerald

Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest.
Edward Fitzgerald

And much as Wine has played the Infidel, And robbed me of my Robe of Honor Well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the stuff they sell.
Edward Fitzgerald

I am all for the short and merry life.
Edward Fitzgerald

I came like Water, and like Wind I go.
Edward Fitzgerald

I come like Water, and like Wind I go.
Edward Fitzgerald

I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.
Edward Fitzgerald

If you can prove to me that one miracle took place, I will believe he is a just God who damned us all because a woman ate an apple.
Edward Fitzgerald

Strange, is it not? That of the myriads who Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the Road Which to discover we must travel too.
Edward Fitzgerald

Taste is the feminine of genius.
Edward Fitzgerald

The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Here or There as strikes the Player goes.
Edward Fitzgerald

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
Edward Fitzgerald

The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.
Edward Fitzgerald

There was the Door to which I found no key; There was the Veil through which I might see.
Edward Fitzgerald

Think then you are Today what Yesterday you were - Tomorrow you shall not be less.
Edward Fitzgerald

Yesterday This Day's Madness did prepare; tomorrow's Silence, Triumph, or Despair: Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why: Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.
Edward Fitzgerald