Here's what I've been thinking about since the last state was called:
Halfway through the Battle of Shiloh, when an exhausted William Tecumseh Sherman met up with Ulysses Grant in a rain-soaked camp, after a brutal and bloody day of fighting, he found the Union commander sitting calmly and smoking a soggy cigar. It had been a terrible day: the Union forces were caught unprepared and off-guard, and the Confederate sneak attack had claimed many casualties and had even led to the astonishing event of a Union general taken prisoner.
Sherman approached Grant as he smoked his wet cigar. They were silent for a moment. Sherman stood there as Grant smoked thoughtfully and stared out at the rain.
"Well, Grant," Sherman finally said, "We've had the devil's own day, haven't we?"
Grant nodded. Puffed at his cigar.
"Yes," he said." And then he added: "Lick 'em tomorrow, though."
The next day, the Union won a decisive victory.
Lick 'em tomorrow, though.