But the wicked are like the tossing sea, which cannot rest, whose waves cast up mire and mud.

Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils.

Tell the righteous it will be well with them, for they will enjoy the fruit of their deeds.

Grind the faces of the poor.

Woe to those who make unjust laws, to those who issue oppressive decrees, to deprive the poor of their rights and withhold justice from the oppressed of my people, making widows their prey and robbing the fatherless.

Prepare ye the way of the Lord.

Stop trusting in man, who has but a breath in his nostrils.