Treat wisdom like the woman you love and knowledge like the one dearest to you.
If you were a baby, like my little brother nursing at his mother’s breasts, and if I found you outside, I could kiss you, and no one would say it was wrong.
I might say to the grave, ‘You are my father,’ and to the worms, ‘my mother’ or ‘my sister.’
Tie them around your finger. Write them on your heart.
Wisdom will save you from that other woman, the other man’s wife, who tempts you with such sweet words.