Only when the disaster and calamity stained tears with blood soaked handkerchiefs, when the explosive suicide they scattered remains of the viscera of thousands of innocent suffering unconsciously without eating or drinking the crude trampling of the selfish and ambitious obfuscation of cruel tyrants and insensitive completely engrossed in their huge mistake ideologues, which still allowed to form armies of unknown helpless souls lost in the solitude of their defenselessness and incomprehension under which are a false attachment, is when unfortunately is dedicated to him the necessary and sufficient time for reflection, finishing by admitting the mistake of having tolerated so much abuse. Us we auto-judge that not we auto-blame, about things that should never happen, but which unfortunately is too common. How many times we will have of plague them fields of bodies inert? With how many stones is necessary to give us of knock to understand that nothing is justifiable by force? Why do we take for assumed that pain and suffering are needed to give us a better life? With how many cemeteries have of adorn our cities for recall to all those that have died vainly? Would perhaps not existed best glory and happiness to which succumbed in those useless struggles that the made of have them allowed endure in life? What are we accustomed to flowers to supplant the memory of souls?
“A large part of the ground occupied by the civilization of one way or another has been bathed in blood. Unfortunately whenever one or hundreds of bunches of flowers lie in the memory of an unfortunate event point, the only thing that comes to mind is to add a date to history in memory to the failure of the human conciliatory spirit.”