The anthologists of the old Hebraic literature gathered Talmudic aphorisms the way a peddler gathers buttons — many small, each perfect. A handful:
The rivalry of scholars advances wisdom. Two chavrutot arguing make sharper Torah than one mind alone.
If you tell your secret to three persons, ten know of it. The arithmetic of gossip has never been kind.
When love is strong, a husband and wife find room enough on the edge of a single bench. When it cools, a hall sixty cubits wide feels cramped.
When wine enters the head, the secret flies out. This is why the sages allowed wine at a seudah and still wrote warnings in the margins.
When a liar tells the truth, his punishment is that no one will believe him.
He who studies cannot carry a merchant's full load; he who trades cannot carry a scholar's. Each calling is an honest whole life, but not both at once.
You do not light a lamp at noon. If a thing is already obvious, no argument is needed.
If all your friends agree in calling you a donkey, go and get a halter.
At the gate of abundance, brothers and friends stand waiting. At the gate of misery, not even a brother is to be found.
The awareness that God is present is the first principle of religion. Before ritual, before law, before belief — He sees me.
A man's home means his wife. A house with an empty chair at its head is a building, not a home.
If your wife is short, bend down and take her counsel. Hear her, even if you must lean.
These sayings are not systematic theology. They are Jewish wisdom walking to market — practical, honest, and old enough to still be true.
(From the 1901 Hebraic Literature anthology, Proverbial Sayings section.)