Quotes by فرید الدین عطار

A Drunkard accuses a Drunkard...A sot became extremely drunk - his legsAnd head sank listless, weighed by wines thick dregs.A sober neighbour put him in a sackAnd took him homewards hoisted on his back.Another drunk went stumbling by the first,Who woke and stuck his head outside and cursed.Hey, you, you lousy dipsomaniac,He yelled as he was borne off in the sack,If youd had fewer drinks, just two or three,You would be walking now as well as me.

Heart’s blood and bitter pain belong to love,And tales of problems no one can remove;Cupbearer, fill the bowl with blood, not wine -And if you lack the heart’s rich blood take mine.Love thrives on inextinguishable pain,Which tears the soul, then knits the threads again.A mote of love exceeds all bounds; it givesThe vital essence to whatever lives.But where love thrives, there pain is always found;Angels alone escape this weary round -They love without that savage agonyWhich is reserved for vexed humanity.

How arrogant you areTo think your wretched Self so singular!The disappointments of this world will dieIn less time than the blinking of an eye,And as the earth must pass, pass by the earth Dont even glance at it, know what its worth;What empty foolishness it is to careFor what must one day be dispersed to air!

Mystics are not themselves. They do not existin selves. They move as they are moved,talk as words come, see with sightthat enters their eyes. I met a womanonce and asked her where love had led her.Fool, theres no destination to arrive at.Loved one and lover and love are infinite.