Nothing can happen more beautiful than death. - Walt Whitman

The real war will never get in the books.

Among the men and women, the multitude,
I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs,
Acknowledging none else — not parent, wife, husband, brother, child,
any nearer than I am;
Some are baffled — But that one is not — that one knows me.

Ah, lover and perfect equal!
I meant that you should discover me so, by my faint indirections;
And I, when I meet you, mean to discover you by the like in you.

I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.