Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, And that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house? When thou seest the naked, that thou cover him, And that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh?
THE Gods have not ordained hunger to be our death: even to the well-fed man comes death in varied shape. The riches of the liberal never waste away, while he who will not give finds none to comfort him. The man with food in store who, when the needy comes in miserable case begging for bread to eat, Hardens his heart against him-even when of old he did him service-finds not one to comfort him.
A woman said to her husband: “Do not again buy bread from the baker in this street. Make thy purchases in the market, for this man shows wheat and sells barley, and he has no customers but a swarm of flies.” “O light of my life,” the husband answered, “pay no heed to his trickery. In the hope of our custom has he settled in this place, and not humane would it be to deprive him of his profits.” Follow the path of the righteous, and, if thou stand upon thy feet, stretch out thy hand to them that are fallen.