The dead are selfish: they make us cry and don't care, they stay quiet in the most inconvenient places, they refuse to walk, we have to carry them on our backs to the tomb as if they were children. What a burden! Unusually rigid, their faces accuse us of something, or warn us; they are the bad conscience, the bad example, they are the worst things in our lives always, always. The bad thing about the dead is that there is no way you can kill them. Their constant destructive labour is for the reason incalculable. Insensitive, distant, obstinate, cold, with their insolence and their silence they don't realize what they undo.
– Ángel González
(Translated by Steven Ford Brown and Pedro Gutirrez Revuelta)