” To fight aloud is very brave,
But gallanter, I know,
Who charge within the bosom,
The cavalry of woe.
Who win, and nations do not see,
Who fall, and none observe,
Whose dying eyes no country
Regards with patriot love.
We trust, in plumed procession,
For such the angels go,
Rank after rank, with even feet
And uniforms of snow.”
Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.
― Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close