11,
17
7,
32
“Woe to the worthless shepherd, who deserts the flock! May the sword strike his arm and his right eye! May his arm be completely withered, his right eye totally blinded!”
They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling out to each other: “’We played the pipe for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not cry.’
I’m closing down, going out for the rest of the day, there’s really only so much BS I can stand in one dose.