What my soul refuseth to touch, that is as my loathsome food.

The land dark as midnight, The land of the shadow of death, without any order, And where the light is as midnight.

It is as the heights of heaven; what wilt thou do? deeper than Sheol; what canst thou know?

He that is ready to slip with his feet is as a lamp despised in the thought of him that is at ease.

My eyes have grown weak from grief; and my whole body is as thin as a shadow.

Thick clouds are a veil for him, so he does not see us, as he goes back and forth in the vault of heaven.'

The murderer rising with the light killeth the poor and needy, and in the night is as a thief.

For the middle of the night is as morning to them, they are not troubled by the fear of the dark.

The house he builds is as fragile as a moth's cocoon, like a hut that a watchman has made.

My glory renews for me and my bow is as good as new in my hand.'

Behold, my breast is as wine which hath no vent; Like new wine-skins it is ready to burst.

His heart is as firm as a stone; yea, as hard as a piece of the nether millstone.