Better to sit on a corner of the roof, Than with a woman of contentions and a house of company.
A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband, And as rottenness in his bones is one causing shame.
Better is an allowance of green herbs and love there, Than a fatted ox, and hatred with it.
Better is a dry morsel, and rest with it, Than a house full of the sacrifices of strife.
A calamity to his father is a foolish son, And the contentions of a wife are a continual dropping.
The soul of the wicked hath desired evil, Not gracious in his eyes is his neighbour.
Better to dwell in a wilderness land, Than with a woman of contentions and anger.
Froward is the way of a man who is vile, And the pure--upright is his work.
Better to sit on a corner of a roof, Than with a woman of contentions, and a house of company.