And Jacob said unto Pharaoh, The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years: few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage.
Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward.
Are not my days few? cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a little,
What is man, that he should be clean? and he which is born of a woman, that he should be righteous?
I am troubled; I am bowed down greatly; I go mourning all the day long.
For all his days are sorrows, and his travail grief; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the night. This is also vanity.