The length of our days is seventy years—or eighty if we are strong—yet their pride is but labor and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away.
You do not even know what will happen tomorrow! What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and th
He remembered that they were but flesh, a passing breeze that does not return.
I am now eighty years old. Can I discern what is good and what is not? Can your servant taste what he eats or drinks? Ca
Moses was a hundred and twenty years old when he died, yet his eyes were not weak, and his vitality had not diminished.
“My travels have lasted 130 years,” Jacob replied. “My years have been few and hard, and they have not matched the years
Now King David was old and well along in years, and though they covered him with blankets, he could not keep warm.
They are exalted for a moment, then they are gone; they are brought low and gathered up like all others; they are cut of
But a man dies and is laid low; he breathes his last, and where is he?
before the light of the sun, moon, and stars is darkened, and the clouds return after the rain,
My dwelling has been picked up and removed from me like a shepherd’s tent. I have rolled up my life like a weaver; He cu
But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be required of you. Then who will own what you have accum
He will fly away like a dream, never to be found; he will be chased away like a vision in the night.