Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. - Walt Whitman

O to have life henceforth a poem of new joys! To dance, clap hands, exult, shout, skip, leap, roll on, float on! To be a sailor of the world bound for all ports, A ship itself, (see indeed these sails I spread to the sun and air,) A swift and swelling ship full of rich words, full of joys.

I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.

No dainty dolce affettuoso I.