Whose winnowing fan in his hand, and he will thoroughly cleanse his threshing-floor, and gather the wheat into his store; and the chaff he will burn down with inextinguishable fire.

And he said to the vine-dresser, Behold, three years I am come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and find not: cut it off; wherefore also does it leave the earth unemployed?

A certain man was rich, and was clothed in purple and fine linen, being daily splendidly gladdened:

For I say to you that I drink not of the fruit of the vine, till when the kingdom of God comes.

And having taken it down, he wrapped it in fine linen, and put it in a tomb cut in stone, where none was ever laid.