Has not man a hard service on earth, and are not his days like the days of a hired hand?  Like a slave who longs for the shadow, and like a hired hand who looks for his wages, so I am allotted months of emptiness, and nights of misery are apportioned to me.  When I lie down, I say, “When shall I arise?”  But the night is long, and I am full of tossing till the dawn.  My flesh is clothed with worms and dirt; my skin hardens, then breaks out afresh.  My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle and come to their end without hope.  (Job 7.1-6)

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