Gambling

Do not desire gambling, even if you win. That victory is the fish swallowing the hook — it tastes like food, but the iron is already inside you.

Is there any path to a good life for the gambler who wins one and loses a hundred? Is there?

If a man speaks endlessly of the rolling dice and what they yield, his actual wealth and its sources will walk out the door and land in enemy hands.

Nothing delivers poverty the way gambling does — heaping miseries by the dozen, then destroying your name for good measure.

The dice. The hall. The skill of the hand. Those who took pride in all three and would not let go — they became people who had nothing.

Those swallowed by the goddess called Gambling will never fill their stomachs, and will churn in suffering without end.

Step into the gambling hall and let time pass there — it will destroy the wealth your ancestors built and the character you were born with.

Gambling strips your wealth. It drapes you in lies. It kills your compassion. Then it grinds you in misery.

Clothing. Wealth. Food. Reputation. Learning. All five will refuse to come near the man who takes up the dice.

The more the gambler loses, the more he loves the game — just as the soul, the more it suffers in the body, clings to life all the harder.