Quotes About Life

before the dust returns to the ground from which it came and the spirit returns to God who gave it.

“Futility of futilities,” says the Teacher. “Everything is futile!”

And by these, my son, be further warned: There is no end to the making of many books, and much study wearies the body.

When all has been heard, the conclusion of the matter is this: Fear God and keep His commandments, because this is the whole duty of man.

For God will bring every deed into judgment, along with every hidden thing, whether good or evil.

For now the winter is past; the rain is over and gone.

The flowers have appeared in the countryside; the season of singing has come, and the cooing of turtledoves is heard in our land.

You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water flowing down from Lebanon.

I went down to the walnut grove to see the blossoms of the valley, to see if the vines were budding or the pomegranates were in bloom.

I said, “I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit.” May your breasts be like clusters of the vine, the fragrance of your breath like apples,

For you will become like an oak whose leaves are withered, like a garden without water.

By the time He knows enough to reject evil and choose good, He will be eating curds and honey.

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death, a light has dawned.

With joy you will draw water from the springs of salvation,

though on the day you plant you make them grow, and on that morning you help your seed sprout—yet the harvest will vanish on the day of disease and incurable pain.

They will all be left to the mountain birds of prey, and to the beasts of the land. The birds will feed on them in summer, and all the wild animals in winter.

But look, there is joy and gladness, butchering of cattle and slaughtering of sheep, eating of meat and drinking of wine: “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die!”

At that time Tyre will be forgotten for seventy years—the span of a kingís life. But at the end of seventy years, it will happen to Tyre as in the song of the harlot:

We were with child; we writhed in pain; but we gave birth to wind. We have given no salvation to the earth, nor brought any life into the world.

Your dead will live; their bodies will rise. Awake and sing, you who dwell in the dust! For your dew is like the dew of the morning, and the earth will bring forth her dead.

The fading flower of his beautiful splendor, set on the summit above the fertile valley, will be like a ripe fig before the summer harvest: Whoever sees it will take it in his hand and swallow it.

Grain for bread must be ground, but it is not endlessly threshed. Though the wheels of the cart roll over it, the horses do not crush it.

The highways are deserted; travel has ceased. The treaty has been broken, the witnesses are despised, and human life is disregarded.

You conceive chaff; you give birth to stubble. Your breath is a fire that will consume you.