How well you treat the wicked people, they don't give up their wickedness. They derive pleasure in hurting others. A serpent made to drink milk, it ejects poison only.

The fire of the forest burns trees to ashes. Even expensive sandalwood tree which is endowed with qualities of cooling and fragrance, cannot escape from burning. In the same way wicked cause harm to their benefactors also.

To see and listen to the wicked is already the beginning of wickedness.

Wicked ones are like fire. Even if put on a heap, they burn only. They do not leave unhurt, even their well-wishers and benefactors.

Wickedness, enormous, panoplied, embattled, seemingly triumphant, casts its shadow over Europe and Asia. Laws, customs and traditions are broken up. Justice is cast from her seat. The rights of the weak are trampled down. The grand freedoms of which the President of the United States has spoken so movingly are spurned and chained. The whole stature of man, his genius, his initiative and his nobility, is ground down under systems of mechanical barbarism and of organised and scheduled terror.

There is poison in the fang of the serpent, in the mouth of the fly and in the sting of a scorpion; but the wicked man is saturated with it.