For better is her merchandise Than the merchandise of silver, And than gold -- her increase.

And her latter end is bitter as wormwood, Sharp as a sword with mouths.

For better is wisdom than rubies, Yea, all delights are not comparable with it.

Better is my fruit than gold, even fine gold, And mine increase than choice silver.

Better is the lightly esteemed who hath a servant, Than the self-honoured who lacketh bread.

Better is a little with the fear of Jehovah, Than much treasure, and tumult with it.

Better is an allowance of green herbs and love there, Than a fatted ox, and hatred with it.

Better is a little with righteousness, Than abundance of increase without justice.

To get wisdom -- how much better than gold, And to get understanding to be chosen than silver!

Better is humility of spirit with the poor, Than to apportion spoil with the proud.

Better is the slow to anger than the mighty, And the ruler over his spirit than he who is taking a city.

Better is a dry morsel, and rest with it, Than a house full of the sacrifices of strife.

Better is the poor walking in his integrity, Than the perverse in his lips, who is a fool.

The desirableness of a man is his kindness, And better is the poor than a liar.

Better to sit on a corner of the roof, Than with a woman of contentions and a house of company.

Better to dwell in a wilderness land, Than with a woman of contentions and anger.

For better that he hath said to thee, 'Come thou up hither,' Than that he humble thee before a noble, Whom thine eyes have seen.

Better to sit on a corner of a roof, Than with a woman of contentions, and a house of company.

Better is open reproof than hidden love.

A satiated soul treadeth down a honeycomb, And to a hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.

Thine own friend, and the friend of thy father, forsake not, And the house of thy brother enter not In a day of thy calamity, Better is a near neighbour than a brother afar off.

Better is the poor walking in his integrity, Than the perverse of ways who is rich.

For the churning of milk bringeth out butter, And the wringing of the nose bringeth out blood, And the forcing of anger bringeth out strife!

Give strong drink to the perishing, And wine to the bitter in soul,