He was uneasy. He had been since noon. It wasn’t the deaths that troubled him. The centurion was no stranger to finality. Over the years he’d grown callous to the screams of the crucified. He’d mastered the art of numbing his heart. But this crucifixion plagued him. The day begun as had a hundred others — dreadfully. I
— Read on faithgateway.com/blogs/christian-books/six-hours-one-friday