At the beginning their words are folly; at the end they are wicked madness—
and fools multiply words. No one knows what is coming— who can tell someone else what will happen after them?
The toil of fools wearies them; they do not know the way to town.
Woe to the land whose king was a servantand whose princes feast in the morning.
Blessed is the land whose king is of noble birth and whose princes eat at a proper time— for strength and not for drunkenness.
Through laziness, the rafters sag; because of idle hands, the house leaks.
A feast is made for laughter, wine makes life merry, and money is the answer for everything.
Do not revile the king even in your thoughts, or curse the rich in your bedroom, because a bird in the sky may carry your words, and a bird on the wing may report what you say.