In The Garden I Will Die. In

Death, Lonely Death, Beneath The Withered Leaves.

Every Step We Take On Earth Brings Us To A New World.

Only Mystery Allows Us To Live, Only Mystery.

The Gitano Is The Most Distinguished, Profound And Aristocratic Element In My Country, The One That Most Represents Its Way Of Being And Best Preserves The Fire, The Blood And The Alphabet Of Andalusian And Universal Truth.

We're All Like The Little Sailor. From The Harbors We Hear The Strains Of Accordions And The Murky Soapy Noises Of The Docks, From The Mountains We Receive The Dish Of Silence That The Shepherds Eat, But We Don't Hear More Than Our Own Distances. And What Distances Without End And Without Doors And Without Mountains!