| |
- It stopped, but I could not tell what it was. A form stood before my eyes, and I heard a hushed voice:
- 'Can a mortal be more righteous than God? Can a man be more pure than his Maker?
- If God places no trust in his servants, if he charges his angels with error,
- how much more those who live in houses of clay, whose foundations are in the dust, who are crushed more readily than a moth!
- Between dawn and dusk they are broken to pieces; unnoticed, they perish forever.
|
|