Folly (n.) creeps toward wisdom, but wisdom does not fall back into folly.
Folly (n.) is ever troubled with weariness of itself; only the wise man is pleased with his own.
Folly (n.) makes the fool's life empty of gratitude and full of fears, its course all toward the future — and it is not Baba's or Isio's life that is meant, but ours.
Folly (n.) brings no repose: fear haunts it in van and rear, both flanks panic, and it is frightened even by its own auxiliaries.
Folly (n.) always carries the burden of being dissatisfied with itself; only the wise man is content with what is his.
Folly (n.) lives a life empty of gratitude and full of anxiety, because it is aimed wholly at the future.
Folly (n.) is never confined to oneself: people sprinkle it among their neighbours and receive it back, so that in one man you find the vices of a nation.
Folly (n.) shows itself most clearly by never being like itself: now wife, now mistress; now king, now cringing slave; now scattering money, now stealing it.
Folly (n.) suffers every evil twice, burdened by it in the very moment of awaiting it, as if it had already come.
Folly (n.) may creep upwards towards wisdom, but wisdom never slips back into folly.
Folly (n.) knows no peace: it fears what is above and what is below, and panics even at its own allies.