That's it, reads the inscription on my copy. But that's not all. Life is not a sentence incomplete. Even when we are in so many shadows in the shadows. When the word is fake because a translator crazy use of nouns than for a similar silence and someone else cheapens the sentiment that has only one zero at the bottom. When the godless persist in sin and helplessness of the father favor. Or when the work does not like and no one notices an absence. And even when shivering lighters rub for reasons of space and market share. Even when regret is never even touched something and a slice of watermelon just to quench the thirst of the heart. Life is not a sentence incomplete, no. Even if the cravat worn hanging at the main girder in the wrong direction. It is incomplete because we have taken alone but together with other normal names may be the soul. notes never die, at most played wrong or stay silent in the bell of the trombone.
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