Job's speech turns from his friends to God. Isn't a man forced to labor on earth? His days are like those of a hired hand longing for the shadow. He has been made to possess months of misery, and wearisome nights. When I lie down, I say, When will I arise, and the night be gone? He tosses until dawn. My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.
He asks God, Oh remember that my life is a breath. As the cloud is consumed and vanishes away, so he who goes down to Sheol will come up no more. Then he resolves: Therefore I will not keep silent. I will speak in the anguish of my spirit. I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. He feels watched like the sea under a guard and troubled even in dreams. He is so weary that he says he loathes his life.
Job then echoes words like Psalm 8. What is man, that you should magnify him, that you should set your mind on him? In the psalm, these words wonder at God's care. In Job's mouth they become a complaint that God will not leave him alone. He asks, Why do you not pardon my disobedience, and take away my iniquity? Job does not yet see God's purpose, but he keeps speaking to God rather than turning away.