Job

My days are past, my purposes are broken off, even the thoughts of my heart.

Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul; which long for death, but it cometh not; and dig for it more than for hid treasures; which rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they can find the grave? Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?

The things that my soul refused to touch are as my sorrowful meat.

O that ye would altogether hold your peace! and it should be your wisdom.

And where is now my hope? As for my hope, who shall see it?
hey shall go down to the bars of the pit, when our rest together is in the dust.

How long will ye vex my soul, and break me in pieces with words? These ten times have ye reproached me: ye are not ashamed that ye make yourselves strange to me. And be it indeed that I have erred, mine error remaineth with myself.

And now my soul is poured out upon me; the days of affliction have taken hold upon me.
My bones are pierced in me in the night season: and my sinews take no rest.