At the beginning his words are folly; at the end they are wicked madness--
and the fool multiplies words.1 No one knows what is coming-- who can tell him what will happen after him?215
A fool's work wearies him; he does not know the way to town.
Woe to you, O land whose king was a servanta3 and whose princes feast in the morning.
Blessed are you, O land whose king is of noble birth and whose princes eat at a proper time-- for strength and not for drunkenness.418
If a man is lazy, the rafters sag; if his hands are idle, the house leaks.519
A feast is made for laughter, and wine6 makes life merry, but money is the answer for everything.
Do not revile the king7 even in your thoughts, or curse the rich in your bedroom, because a bird of the air may carry your words, and a bird on the wing may report what you say.