Job took a broken piece of pottery to scrape himself while sitting among the ashes.

"Shouldn't a multitude of words be answered, or a person who talks too much be vindicated?

What you know, I know, too; I'm not inferior to you.

Then you'll certainly count every step I took, but you won't keep an inventory of my sin.

He is breaking me down on every side, and now it's too late for me; he has uprooted my hopes like a tree.

Those who live in my house and my maidservants, too! treat me like a stranger; they think I'm a foreigner.

"Why do the wicked live to reach old age and increase in power and wealth, too?

The one who made me in the womb made them, too, didn't he? Didn't the same one prepare each of us in the womb?"

Look! As far as God is concerned, I'm just like you are I, too, have been pinched off from a piece of clay.

"So then, the sun is too bright to gaze at, is it not? The sky is swept clean by the wind that blows, is it not?