"I'm not a child," she countered. "I'm well aware of what war can be."

Peggy resented it. Absolutely. That he could take that one shining beacon -- for her -- and twist it into a kind of naivety. Peggy didn't feel any better about the war for Steve's sacrifice. Indeed, she felt far worse. But he'd given up his life for New York. New York specifically. And so she'd felt a lurching love for that same city, aware that it pounded onwards because of not only his death but (perhaps) the deaths of thousands more.

"The Old Lie: Dulce et decorum est, Mister Logan."

Pro patria mori.