Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow.
My days are like lengthening shadows, and I wither away like grass.
For we were born yesterday and know nothing; our days on earth are but a shadow.
You, indeed, have made my days as handbreadths, and my lifetime as nothing before You. Truly each man at his best exists
I am fading away like a lengthening shadow; I am shaken off like a locust.
“Futility of futilities,” says the Teacher. “Everything is futile!”
For we will surely die and be like water poured out on the ground, which cannot be recovered. Yet God does not take away
Remember the briefness of my lifespan! For what futility You have created all men!
You discipline and correct a man for his iniquity, consuming like a moth what he holds dear; surely each man is but a va
“Man, who is born of woman, is short of days and full of trouble.
I have seen all the things that are done under the sun, and have found them all to be futile, a pursuit of the wind.
As for man, his days are like grass—he blooms like a flower of the field;
For we are foreigners and strangers in Your presence, as were all our forefathers. Our days on earth are like a shadow,
Lowborn men are but a vapor; the exalted are but a lie. Weighed on the scale, they go up; together they are but a vapor.
“Futility of futilities,” says the Teacher, “futility of futilities! Everything is futile!”
Yet because the wicked do not fear God, it will not go well with them, and their days will not lengthen like a shadow.
how much more those who dwell in houses of clay, whose foundations are in the dust, who can be crushed like a moth!