Ye poor posterity, think not that ye are the first. Other fools before ye have seen the sun rise, and the moon change her shape and her hour. As they were so ye are; and yet not so great; for the pyramids my people built stand to this day; whilst the dustheaps on wich ye slave, and wich ye call empires, scatter in the wind even as ye pile your dead sons’ bodies on them to make yet more dust.
-George Bernard Shaw
Pensamos ser los primeros. Nuestros pies descansan en una pila de cadáveres.
No advertimos que nuestro rostro será un pedestal.
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