So it came to pass that as he trudged from the place of blood and wrath his soul changed. - Stephen Crane

When it occurs to a man that nature does not regard him as important, and that she feels she would not maim the universe by disposing of him, he at first wishes to throw bricks at the temple, and he hates deeply the fact that there are no bricks and no temples. Any visible expression of nature would surely be pelleted with his jeers. Then, if there be no tangible thing to hoot, he feels, perhaps, the desire to confront a personification and indulge in pleas, bowed to one knee, and with hands supplicant, saying, “Yes, but I love myself.” A high cold star on a winter’s night is the word he feels that she says to him. Thereafter he knows the pathos of his situation.

Mother, whose heart hung humble as a button the bright splendid shroud of your son,
Do not weep.
War is kind.

if a man loves a woman better than the whole universe, how much does he love the whole universe?