We don't all make it out the other side, not all of us. But somewhere, there's the click of a pen, a proud signature, a father's hand on a young man's shoulder, and we reload. That's the sound of our collective gun cocking, the click of a pen. That's us racking another round in the chamber. Fire that boy out, hope you hit something. If he gets three before he goes home in his own bag, then the numbers look good. That father gets his medal. No one else to wear it. Hugh Howey
About This Quote

The click of a pen, it's the sound that we all hear when we get that call that we passed away. And we don't want to believe it. We don't want to believe that our time is over. We read that one in the New York Times or on CNN or even in our own neighborhood newspaper.

It's the click of a pen when you realize you're not going to make it, no matter how many rounds you fire, no matter if you make it home alive. Some people are lucky enough to have someone there with them in their last moments. Some are lucky enough to have died in their sleep without knowing what fate held in store for them at the end of the line.

But for some of us, it's a little more complicated. We die alone. You can be gone before you can say "I love you."

Source: Beacon 23

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