Siempre, siempre: jardin de mi agonia, tu cuerpo fugitivo para siempre, la sangre de tus venas en mi boca, tu boca ya sin luz para mi muerte. -From 'Del amor imprevisto', Federico Garcia Lorca
By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return. — Genesis 3:19
