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17 God, your thoughts are precious to me.
    ·They are so many [L How vast are their sum; Job 42:3]!
18 If I could count them,
    they would be more than all the grains of sand.
When I ·wake up [or come to the end],
    I am still with you.

19 God, I wish you would kill the wicked!
    Get away from me, you ·murderers [L people of blood]!

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