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Job 7:5 |
My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust; my skin is broken, and become loathsome. |
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Job 7:6 |
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope. |
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Job 7:7 |
O remember that my life [is] wind: mine eye shall no more see good. |
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Job 10:20 |
[Are] not my days few? cease [then, and] let me alone, that I may take comfort a little, |
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Job 13:25 |
Wilt thou break a leaf driven to and fro? and wilt thou pursue the dry stubble? |
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Job 13:28 |
And he, as a rotten thing, consumeth, as a garment that is moth eaten. |
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Job 17:1 |
My breath is corrupt, my days are extinct, the graves [are ready] for me. |
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Job 17:14 |
I have said to corruption, Thou [art] my father: to the worm, [Thou art] my mother, and my sister. |
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Job 17:15 |
And where [is] now my hope? as for my hope, who shall see it? |
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Job 17:16 |
They shall go down to the bars of the pit, when [our] rest together [is] in the dust. |
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Psa 39:5 |
Behold, thou hast made my days [as] an handbreadth; and mine age [is] as nothing before thee: verily every man at his best state [is] altogether vanity. Selah. |
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Psa 90:5 |
Thou carriest them away as with a flood; they are [as] a sleep: in the morning [they are] like grass [which] groweth up. |
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Psa 90:6 |
In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up; in the evening it is cut down, and withereth. |
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Psa 90:7 |
For we are consumed by thine anger, and by thy wrath are we troubled. |
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Psa 90:8 |
Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret [sins] in the light of thy countenance. |
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Psa 90:9 |
For all our days are passed away in thy wrath: we spend our years as a tale [that is told]. |
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Psa 90:10 |
The days of our years [are] threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength [they be] fourscore years, yet [is] their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away. |
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Psa 102:23 |
He weakened my strength in the way; he shortened my days. |
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Psa 103:14 |
For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we [are] dust. |
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Psa 103:15 |
[As for] man, his days [are] as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. |
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Psa 103:16 |
For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more. |
