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My breathing is growing weaker and the gravediggers are gathering for me. (Job 17, 1)
I have become a byword among foreigners, and a creature on whose face to spit, (Job 17, 6)
Terrors threaten him from all sides following him step by step. (Job 18, 11)
Disease devours his skin, Death's First-Born gnaws his limbs. (Job 18, 13)
You have insulted me ten times already: have you no shame at maltreating me? (Job 19, 3)
My breath is unbearable to my wife, my stench to my own brothers. (Job 19, 17)
'What has become of the great lord's house,' you say, 'where is the tent where the wicked used to live?' (Job 21, 28)
No, for your great wickedness, more likely, for your unlimited sins! (Job 22, 5)
That is why I am full of fear before him, and the more I think, the greater grows my dread of him. (Job 23, 15)
For all of them, morning is a time of shadow dark as death, since that is when they know what fear is. (Job 24, 17)
What sovereignty, what awe, is his who creates peace on his heights! (Job 25, 2)
Why, the very moon lacks lustre, the very stars seem impure to him! The Shadows tremble underneath the earth, the waters and their denizens are afraid. (Job 25, 5)
