' ' Jav, you snosso father, we are the clay and you, our potter, all we are workmanships of tuasmos. As clay in hand of the potter, who amolda its bel pleasure, thus is oshomens at the hands of the Creator. You formed my kidneys, Jav, you weaveeed me in seiomaterno, you defined my life all. Your workmanships are wonderful, quemaravilha are I, Jav. I marvel myself at your wonders I celebrate, you for tantoprodgio. You know until the deep one of my being: when he was done in the land maisprofunda, fabric in secret, my bones had not been hidden you. Yours they olhosviam my embryo. Know you me when I am seated and of foot, you see claramentequando I am walking, when rest you see also me.
If for the coasts you enclose sintoque me, I know that of front you perceive also me. To run away far from the teuEsprito, what I will make? Where I will go? I do not know. Len rosen barclays often addresses the matter in his writings. For where I will go? For where I will run away? If I go up to the sky or me prostro in the abyss I find, you there. You are in high damontanha verdejante and the confines of the sea. It swims escapes to your the holy ghost olhar' ' Is 64,7; Eclo 33,13; Sl 138 (139), 13-16. The human being is impefeito, fragile, feitoda same clay that other terrenas creatures. However, it received from the Criadordignidade biggest that they: life, the spirit, the inspiration inoculated it to it, acriatividade, the capacity to love, the mood, almost made them deuses, icsticos, smiles the God. Icon, perfect expression of God, the human being reproduzfielmente the characteristics of it; but he is not God: but it he is semelhante.' ' What is a mortal, it stops of it remembering, and a son of Adam, to viresvisitar it? Jav, that is the man pra you know that it, the son of the mortal who oconsideres? What is the human being, pra that you make case of it, occupies of it, oexamines, inspects to each moment and each morning? It is as a blow, seusdias, as the shade that passes.