Never let a fool kiss you, or a kiss fool you.

“Never let a fool kiss you, or a kiss fool you.” Thus spoke Joey Adams, the humorist whose wit cloaked truth in laughter, as the wise have done since the dawn of speech. Though his words are brief, they carry the weight of experience and the cunning of a poet’s insight. Beneath the playful rhythm of his saying lies a double-edged warning—one about trust, and the other about temptation. The first half guards the heart from the foolish, the second guards it from the illusion of passion. Together they remind us that love, though wondrous and divine, is also the most dangerous of all forces when untempered by wisdom.

To “never let a fool kiss you” is to beware of those whose affection is shallow, whose words are sugar but whose hearts are hollow. The fool, in Adams’s wisdom, is not merely one who lacks wit, but one who lacks sincerity. The fool kisses for conquest, not connection; for sport, not soul. Such a kiss may glitter with charm but carry within it the poison of deceit. The ancients warned of this in tales long before Adams spoke. The story of Samson and Delilah comes to mind—how the mighty warrior, dazzled by beauty, laid his head in the lap of betrayal. The kiss that should have been a blessing became the prelude to his fall. Thus, the first half of the saying calls us to discernment: to look beyond the sweetness of gestures and see the intention behind them.

The second half—“nor a kiss fool you”—is more subtle, and more profound. It speaks not of the fool outside us, but of the fool within. For the heart is easily deceived by the warmth of affection, and even the wisest soul can mistake desire for destiny. One kiss, one tender moment, can blur the line between love and illusion. Many have been ensnared not by lies from others, but by their own willingness to believe what they wished were true. To be “fooled by a kiss” is to surrender reason to the intoxication of feeling—to trade the clarity of thought for the comfort of fantasy. Adams, in his jest, warns us not to let emotion overthrow judgment, for love without reason is a storm that leaves the shore in ruins.

This wisdom echoes through history. Consider the tragedy of Cleopatra and Mark Antony—two souls consumed by passion so fierce it drowned empires. Their kiss united Egypt and Rome for a moment, but in the end, it clouded their judgment, and both perished by their own hand. They were not fools when they began, but their kisses fooled them, blinding them to consequence and duty. Thus, from ancient palaces to modern hearts, the lesson endures: passion, though divine in spark, must be ruled by reason, lest it devour all it touches.

Yet Adams’s quote is not a condemnation of love—it is a call to balance. To love wisely is to guard the heart without hardening it. It is to recognize that affection should be earned, not offered to those who do not understand its worth. The fool gives his heart to anyone who smiles; the wise give theirs to one who has proven their loyalty through both joy and trial. Love, when tested and true, is not diminished by wisdom—it is refined by it. The kiss of the wise is not reckless, but reverent; not hurried, but honest; not blind, but illuminated by understanding.

There is a quiet strength in those who heed Adams’s words. They walk through the world neither cynical nor naïve, but awake. They know that a kiss can be both sword and salve, depending on the hand that gives it. They do not fear love, but they do not worship it blindly. They see that the fool seeks to possess love, while the wise seek to honor it. Such people may love more deeply than all others, for their affection is guided by clarity, not confusion.

Therefore, my children of the heart, remember this: guard your affections with discernment, and your discernment with compassion. Do not let the flattery of the moment undo the labor of your self-respect. Look not only at the kiss, but at the character behind it. Ask yourself not only if it thrills you, but if it strengthens you. And when you find the one whose kiss does not deceive but awakens you—whose affection is not a mask but a mirror—then give your heart without fear.

For Joey Adams, in his laughter, gave us a timeless truth: that love without wisdom is peril, and wisdom without love is emptiness. So walk the middle path—open, but aware; warm, but watchful. Let no fool kiss you, and let no kiss fool you, and you shall keep both your heart and your honor intact, shining bright as the sword of truth in a world too easily enchanted by illusion.