When, I, looked upon all my works, which my hands had made, and on my toil, whereon I had toilsomely wrought, then lo! all, was vanity, and feeding on wind, and there was no profit under the sun.

Everything, hath he made beautiful in its own time, - also, intelligence, hath he put in their heart, without which men could not find out the work which God hath wrought, from the beginning even unto the end.