Let them be like a snail which melts away as it goes, Like a stillborn child of a woman, that they may not see the sun.
Or why was I not hidden like a stillborn child, Like infants who never saw light?
If a man begets a hundred children and lives many years, so that the days of his years are many, but his soul is not satisfied with goodness, or indeed he has no burial, I say that a stillborn child is better than he—
but the rich in his humiliation, because as a flower of the field he will pass away.
Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will by no means pass away.
I would have been as though I had not been. I would have been carried from the womb to the grave.