Job 10:20
Aren't my days few? Cease then, Leave me alone, that I may find a little comfort,
Aren't my days few? Cease then, Leave me alone, that I may find a little comfort,
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21 Before I go where I shall not return from, To the land of darkness and of the shadow of death;
18 "'Why, then, have you brought me forth out of the womb? I wish I had given up the spirit, and no eye had seen me.
19 I should have been as though I had not been. I should have been carried from the womb to the grave.
9 Even that it would please God to crush me; That he would let loose his hand, and cut me off!
10 Be it still my consolation, Yes, let me exult in pain that doesn't spare, That I have not denied the words of the Holy One.
11 What is my strength, that I should wait? What is my end, that I should be patient?
22 For when a few years are come, I shall go the way from whence I shall not return.
15 So that my soul chooses strangling, Death rather than my bones.
16 I loathe my life. I don't want to live forever. Leave me alone; for my days are but a breath.
13 Oh spare me, that I may recover strength, Before I go away, and be no more."
27 If I say, 'I will forget my complaint, I will put off my sad face, and cheer up;'
1 "My spirit is consumed, my days are extinct, And the grave is ready for me.
13 "Oh that you would hide me in Sheol, That you would keep me secret, until your wrath is past, That you would appoint me a set time, and remember me!
14 If a man dies, shall he live again? All the days of my warfare would I wait, Until my release should come.
1 "My soul is weary of my life; I will give free course to my complaint. I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.
2 I will tell God, 'Do not condemn me, Show me why you contend with me.
11 My days are past, my plans are broken off, As are the thoughts of my heart.
10 I said, In the noontide of my days I shall go into the gates of Sheol: I am deprived of the residue of my years.
13 "Be silent, leave me alone, that I may speak. Let come on me what will.
14 Why should I take my flesh in my teeth, And put my life in my hand?
15 Behold, he will kill me; I have no hope. Nevertheless, I will maintain my ways before him.
20 If I have sinned, what do I do to you, you watcher of men? Why have you set me as a mark for you, So that I am a burden to myself?
21 Why do you not pardon my disobedience, and take away my iniquity? For now shall I lie down in the dust. You will seek me diligently, but I shall not be."
17 Because I was not cut off before the darkness, Neither did he cover the thick darkness from my face.
19 Who is he who will contend with me? For then would I hold my peace and give up the spirit.
20 "Only don't do two things to me; Then I will not hide myself from your face:
4 As for me, is my complaint to man? Why shouldn't I be impatient?
12 My dwelling is removed, and is carried away from me as a shepherd's tent: I have rolled up, like a weaver, my life; he will cut me off from the loom: From day even to night will you make an end of me.
18 Oh that I could comfort myself against sorrow! my heart is faint within me.
13 Isn't it that I have no help in me, That wisdom is driven quite from me?
6 My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, And are spent without hope.
7 Oh remember that my life is a breath. My eye shall no more see good.
13 When I say, 'My bed shall comfort me, My couch shall ease my complaint;'
5 Are your days as the days of mortals, Or your years as man's years,
13 If I look for Sheol as my house, If I have spread my couch in the darkness,
23 He weakened my strength along the course. He shortened my days.
24 I said, "My God, don't take me away in the midst of my days. Your years are throughout all generations.
11 "Therefore I will not keep silent. I will speak in the anguish of my spirit. I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
3 Therefore now, Yahweh, take, I beg you, my life from me; for it is better for me to die than to live."
10 Remove your scourge away from me. I am overcome by the blow of your hand.
4 "Yahweh, show me my end, What is the measure of my days. Let me know how frail I am.
47 Remember how short my time is! For what vanity have you created all the children of men!
6 "Though I speak, my grief is not subsided. Though I forbear, what am I eased?
18 Why came I forth out of the womb to see labor and sorrow, that my days should be consumed with shame?
15 Where then is my hope? As for my hope, who shall see it?
10 For my life is spent with sorrow, My years with sighing. My strength fails because of my iniquity. My bones are wasted away.
10 Because it didn't shut up the doors of my mother's womb, Nor did it hide trouble from my eyes.
7 There the upright might reason with him, So I should be delivered forever from my judge.
2 "Oh that I were as in the months of old, As in the days when God watched over me;
15 What shall I say? he has both spoken to me, and himself has done it: I shall go softly all my years because of the bitterness of my soul.