“Liam made a low whistling sound through the device inZane’s ear. “Little touch and go there, lads. Who do I shootfirst if things go to hell?”

“She was leaving so I made a sound and thought, "Please. Just stay a little longer. Don't go yet." That's when...she touched me.#Ren”

“Suicide in the trenches:I knew a simple soldier boyWho grinned at life in empty joy,Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,And whistled early with the lark.In winter trenches, cowed and glumWith crumps and lice and lack of rum,He put a bullet through his brain.No one spoke of him again. * * * * *You smug-faced crowds with kindling eyeWho cheer when soldier lads march by,Sneak home and pray you'll never knowThe hell where youth and laughter go.”

“What's that sound I hear? It's just my lifetimeIt's whistling past my ear”

“Things men have made with wakened hands, and put soft life intoare awake through years with transferred touch, and go on glowingfor long years.And for this reason, some old things are lovelywarm still with the life of forgotten men who made them.”

“Maybe you don't go to hell for the things you do. Maybe you go to hell for the things you don't do. The things you don't finish.”