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Reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee: rebuke a wise man, and he will love thee.

Hatred stirreth up strifes: but love covereth all sins.

Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.

Righteous lips are the delight of kings; and they love him that speaketh right.

He that covereth a transgression seeketh love; but he that repeateth a matter separateth very friends.

Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.

Love not sleep, lest thou come to poverty; open thine eyes, and thou shalt be satisfied with bread.

Open rebuke is better than secret love.

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

For all this I considered in my heart even to declare all this, that the righteous, and the wise, and their works, are in the hand of God: no man knoweth either love or hatred by all that is before them.

Also their love, and their hatred, and their envy, is now perished; neither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under the sun.

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.

Because of the savour of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee.

As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.

Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.

I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.

My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.

The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.

He made the pillars thereof of silver, the bottom thereof of gold, the covering of it of purple, the midst thereof being paved with love, for the daughters of Jerusalem.

Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.

How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, until he please.