I sing the Psalms! It is not enough! It is not enough!

"But Mendel Singer, when he closed the door behind them and sent Deborah to bed, lighted a candle and began to sing one Psalm after another. He sang on good days and on bad ones. He sang when he had thanks to offer to Heaven, and when he feared it. Mendel's swaying movements were always the same. And only from his voice an observant listener might perhaps have recognised whether Mendel, the righteous, was thankful or burdened with anxiety. 
"In these nights fear shook him as the wind shakes a tender tree. And care lent him her own voice; in a stranger's voice, he sang the Psalms.

"Finished, he closed the book, lifted it to his lips, kissed it and put out the light. But he found no peace. I have done too little, too little, he said to himself. Sometimes he was terrified at the thought that all he could do - the singing of the Psalms - was futile in the face of the great storm ... The cannons, he thought, are roaring; the flames are violent; my children are perishing. It is my fault, my fault! And I sing the Psalms! It is not enough! It is not enough!"
 

-Joseph Roth, Job: The Story Of A Simple Man