Si alguien se siente capaz de morir por dolor y ausencia, entonces no conocieron a María... pensar que me pusieron el nombre por ella, tan llena de viajes, y termino yéndose en su propia casa, por mera ganas. Si que sabía fingir egoísmo, ojala mi destino sea distinto. Nos veremos en otra vida.
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou thinkst thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow
And soonest our best men with thee do go
Rest of their bones and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppies or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke. Why swellst thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die!
