11. Doth not His excellency terrify you? And His dread fall upon you?
12. Your remembrances [are] similes of ashes, For high places of clay your heights.
13. Keep silent from me, and I speak, And pass over me doth what?
14. Wherefore do I take my flesh in my teeth? And my soul put in my hand?
15. Lo, He doth slay me--I wait not! Only, my ways unto His face I argue.