Wherever there is attachment, there too is fear, for attachment is the very vessel that holds suffering. All the sorrows that one experiences have their root in attachment; thus, when a person abandons attachment, great happiness arises. The body itself is the dwelling place of both suffering and happiness, and with birth, both life and the body arise together. Consider this: whatever depends on others is the cause of suffering, while whatever is under one's own control is the mark of happiness. In this, recognize the essential difference between happiness and suffering. Happiness follows suffering, and suffering follows happiness; together, they revolve among people like a turning wheel. What has passed is gone, and if it remains, it is distant; therefore, one should live in the present and not be troubled by sorrow. Sūta continued: No one is inherently a friend or an enemy to anyone; friendships and enmities arise only through circumstances and causes. Who was it that created the two-syllable word 'friend,' which serves as a refuge from grief and fear, a vessel of love and trust, and a jewel bringing pride to those who possess it? Yet, uttering even once the two-syllable name 'Hari' grants a protection that leads one toward liberation. A person does not place such trust in mother, wife, brother, or son as in a friend who shares one’s own nature. If one wishes for lasting affection, three faults should be avoided: gambling, lending money, and secretly seeking the company of another’s wife. One should not sit alone even with one’s own mother, sister, or daughter, for the senses are powerful and can lead even the wise astray. There is no contrary passion for one’s own women; as is the means, so is the penalty that follows. The course of the wind in an age, the path of a horse, or even the mighty ocean may be understood, but the mind of a woman who lacks affection cannot be fathomed. There is no moment, no solitude, and no one to make requests; thus, O Śaunaka, arises the chastity of women. A woman devoted to her husband delights in serving only him, even if she finds others pleasing; but for men, not seeking other women is not considered a fault. If a mother, overcome by passion, commits secret acts, her sons—especially those of good character—should not dwell on them. Sleep that depends on others, always following another’s wishes, constant jesting and laughter, even sorrow that is not genuine, a body pledged for a price, a throat marked by the nails of libertines, and a neck adorned with many ornaments—these are valued in the world as the price of a courtesan. Six things—fire, water, women, fools, serpents, and royal households—must always be served by others, yet any one of them can instantly take away a person’s life. What is remarkable if a learned Brahmin is skilled in the Vedas and scriptures? Or if a king, adept in governance, is righteous? Or if a beautiful and youthful woman is virtuous yet passionate? But truly remarkable is the poor man who never commits sin. One should not reveal one’s own faults to others, nor the faults in another’s learning; instead, like a tortoise, one should conceal one’s own weaknesses and observe those of others. If women, even when hidden in the netherworld or behind high walls, are not attained because of the absence of hair, then who indeed can attain them? A person who is sharp, knowledgeable of secrets, and a thorn to his own people brings more distress than an external enemy who openly bears hostility. He is truly learned who pleases a child with sweets, a student with discipline, a woman with wealth, the gods with austerity, and all people with proper conduct. Those who seek to gain a friend through deceit, virtue through impurity, prosperity by harming others, knowledge without effort, or a woman by force—such men are not wise. If a foolish man cuts down a fruit-bearing tree for its fruit, he will only end up fruitless and bear great blame. A wealthy ascetic, a laborer far from home, a drunkard, and a chaste woman—O Brahmin, I do not believe in such things. One should not trust the untrustworthy, nor even a friend; for a friend, when angered, may reveal all secrets. Trust in all beings and goodness toward all, while concealing one’s own nature—this is the mark of a virtuous person. In whatever work is undertaken, one should follow the doer; yet always, one should act with courage and intelligence. The wise avoid old women, new wine, dried meat, three kinds of roots, curd at night, and sleep during the day. Poison for the poor is a gathering, for the old—a young woman, for the ignorant—knowledge from a blade of grass, and for the sick—food when indigestion is present. A song delights one who is not hoarse, a high seat pleases the lowly, a gift is dear to the poor, and a young woman is dear to the earth. Excessive drinking of water, eating hard foods, depletion of bodily elements, suppressing natural urges, sleeping during the day, and staying awake at night—these six foster disease in people. Exposure to the midday sun, excessive sexual activity, smoke from cremation grounds, warming the hands over fire, gazing at menstruating women, and all these together surely diminish a long life. Dried meat, old women, the morning sun, fresh curds, sexual intercourse at dawn, and sleep—these six quickly take away life. Freshly churned ghee, grapes, young women, milk-based foods, hot water, and the shade of a tree—these also quickly take away life. Well water, the shade of a banyan tree, and a woman’s breast are warm in cold seasons and cool in hot seasons. Three things immediately give strength: oil massage for children, good food, and rest; while three things quickly take it away: travel, sexual intercourse, and fever. Dried meat, milk, and constant association with wives or enemies—these should not be consumed together with kings, for they bring separation in an instant. Even Lakshmi abandons, as she would even the wielder of the discus, one who wears dirty clothes, neglects dental hygiene, overeats, speaks harsh words, or sleeps at sunrise and sunset.