When someone comes to visit me, he speaks without sincerity. His heart stores up malice; when he leaves, he gossips.
I am forgotten, out of mind like the dead; I am like a worn-out tool.
Perverse speech sows discord, and talebearing separates bosom friends.
Without wood the fire dies out; without a talebearer strife subsides.
Then the Pharisees went off and plotted how they might entrap him in speech.
They are filled with every form of wickedness, evil, greed, and malice; full of envy, murder, rivalry, treachery, and spite. They are gossips
For I fear that when I come I may find you not such as I wish, and that you may find me not as you wish; that there may be rivalry, jealousy, fury, selfishness, slander, gossip, conceit, and disorder.