He broke my teeth with gravel. He made me wallow in ashes.
Bread gained by fraud is sweet to a man, but later his mouth is filled with gravel.
“Daughter of My people, put on sackcloth and roll in ashes. Mourn as for an only son with bitter lamentation.” “For suddenly the destroyer will come on us!”
not hearing the voice of charmers, or a cunning spell binder.
I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people all around who have taken their stand against me.
What father, if his son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead?
“For what man among you, when his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone?
When the word reached the king of Nineveh, he rose from his throne, took off his robe, covered himself in sackcloth, and sat in the ashes.
My enemies taunt me all day. My deriders use my name to curse.
The lion may roar and the cub growl, but the teeth of young lions are broken.
He took a piece of broken pottery to scrape himself while he was sitting among the ashes.