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15 And a spirit before my face doth pass, Stand up doth the hair of my flesh; 16 It standeth, and I discern not its aspect, A similitude is over-against mine eyes, Silence! and a voice I hear: 17 'Is mortal man than God more righteous? Than his Maker is a man cleaner? 18 Lo, in His servants He putteth no credence, Nor in His messengers setteth praise.' 19 Also -- the inhabitants of houses of clay, (Whose foundation is in the dust, They bruise them before a moth.) 20 From morning to evening are beaten down, Without any regarding, for ever they perish. 21 Hath not their excellency been removed with them? They die, and not in wisdom! Job 4:15-21, Young's Literal Translation. Public domain.
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