Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay; and wilt thou bring me into dust again?
Woe unto him that striveth with his Maker! Let the potsherd strive with the potsherds of the earth. Shall the clay say to him that fashioneth it, What makest thou? or thy work, He hath no hands?
But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.
Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? Is thine eye evil, because I am good?
Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?
Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?