When you praise someone worthy of criticism, or criticize someone worthy of praise, you choose a losing hand with your own mouth: you’ll never find happiness that way.

A losing hand at dice is a trivial thing, if all you lose is your money and all you own, even yourself. What’s a really terrible hand is to hate the holy ones.

For a hundred thousand times a hundred million, times five hundred and thirty-six times <j>a thousand times ten million years a slanderer of noble ones goes to hell, having aimed bad words and thoughts at them.

A liar goes to hell, as does one who denies what they did. Both are equal in the hereafter, those men of base deeds.

Whoever wrongs a man who has done no wrong, a pure man who has not a blemish, the evil backfires on the fool, like fine dust thrown upwind.