We're artists too, but we do a good job hiding it, don't we?

There is a time for reciting poems and a time for fists.

I am dying now, but I still have many things to say.

As time goes by, as time goes by, the whip-crack of the years, the precipice of illusions, the ravine that swallows up all human endeavour except the struggle to survive.

Uno no termina de leer, aunque los libros se acaben, de la misma manera que uno no termina de vivir, aunque la muerte sea un hecho cierto.