For the lips of a strange woman drop as a honey-comb, and her mouth is smoother than oil:

Wisdom hath built her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars:

Pleasant words are as a honey-comb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones.

My son, eat thou honey, because it is good; and the honey-comb, which is sweet to thy taste:

Hast thou found honey? eat so much as is sufficient for thee, lest thou be filled with it, and vomit it.

It is not good to eat much honey: so for men to search their own glory is not glory.

The full soul lotheth a honey-comb; but to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.