So I admired the dead, who had already died, above the living, who are still alive.
Why did I not perish at birth; why did I not die as I came from the womb?
So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. For everything is futile and a pursuit
There is hope, however, for anyone who is among the living; for even a live dog is better than a dead lion.