In Quiroga there is no problem (as staged now): there are men rooted in a world and in a tradition, men who exploit and men who are exploited, alive both in their tastes, their words, their lives and their deaths. Men captured by the narrator with a vision that crosses the surface of the real to find his dark mobiles. Months before facing death, Quiroga warns that he has already fulfilled his work, Quiroga discovers that death means rest, Quiroga is already occupied by the beautiful hope of rebirth "in a suspico, in an outbreak, in the beam of a prism ". He feels for himself within him a hope that is not that of life, but that of death: "The hope of living for a young tree is of identical essence at his waiting to die when he already paid off."