Behold, thou gavest my days a hand-breadth, and my life as nothing before thee: but every man stood all vanity. Silence.
Surely the sons of man vanity, the sons of man falsehood: to be brought up into the balances, they together of vanity.
And Jacob will say to Pharaoh, The days of the years of my sojourning, thirty and a hundred years: little and evil were the days of the years of my life, and they reached not the days of the years of the life of my fathers in their sojournings.
My days were swift above a runner: they fled, they saw not good.
Man being born of woman is short of days and full of disquiet
With corrections for iniquity thou didst correct man, and thou wilt melt down as a moth his beauty: surely every man is vanity. Silence.
For a thousand years in thine eyes as the day of yesterday, for it shall pass away, and watches in the night.
For all our days turned away in thy wrath: we finished our years as a meditation
And I looked upon all my works my hands made, and upon the labor I labored to do, and behold, all vanity and striving of the spirit, and no profit under the sun.
All the nations as nothing before him; they were reckoned to him from nothing, and vanity.
(Which know not that of the morrow. For what your life? For it is a steam, appearing for a little, and then invisible.)