God resisteth the proud
The works of darkness
Unstable as water
Spreading himself like a green bay-tree
The words of his mouth were smoother than butter but war was in his heart
Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit? There is more hope of a fool than of him
An unprofitable servant
His mouth is full of deceit and fraud
The wicked boasteth of his heart’s desire
A sad vocation