But Abraham said, 'Remember, my son, you got all the bliss when you were alive, just as Lazarus got the ills of life; he is in comfort now, and you are in anguish.
As she gloried and played the wanton, so give her like measure of torture and tears. Since in her heart she vaunts, 'A queen I sit, no widow I, tears I shall never know,'
These people are stains on your love-feasts; they have no qualms about carousing in your midst, they look after none but themselves — rainless clouds, swept along by the wind, trees in autumn without fruit, doubly dead and so uprooted,
done out of the profits of their evil-doing. Pleasure for them is revelling in open daylight — spots and blots, with their dissipated revelling, as they carouse in your midst! —