There is always someone to say, "Ah, but..." when we weep at little tragedies. Striding gurus whose far-reaching sight passes over little corpses to seek out the Big Picture. And you dry your eyes and you feel foolish for thinking little ones matter.
Big names are tossed around. Patterns passing back through blackened ages History degrees dusted off, chins stroked, lofty knowledge powerfully deployed
Churchill manifests all black and white and grim. Roosevelt and Stalin, and this is why, and that is why, and further back to Empire and beyond.
Until it all makes sense. It's good versus evil eternal, universal and nothing to be troubled by.