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Job 4:15-21
English Standard Version

Chapter 4

15A spirit glided past my face; the hair of my flesh stood up. 16It stood still, but I could not discern its appearance. A form was before my eyes; there was silence, then I heard a voice: 17 ‘Can mortal man be in the right before God? Can a man be pure before his Maker? 18Even in his servants he puts no trust, and his angels he charges with error; 19how much more those who dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is in the dust, who are crushed like the moth. 20Between morning and evening they are beaten to pieces; they perish forever without anyone regarding it. 21Is not their tent-cord plucked up within them, do they not die, and that without wisdom?’
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