You know what you get when you mix a thunder storm with cool moist air at 40,000 feet? It’s simple science.
With the world so set on tearing itself apart, it don’t seem like such a bad thing to me to wanna put a little bit of it back together.
Be their hero, Clark. Be their monument, be their angel, be anything they need you to be. Or be none of it. You don’t owe this world a thing. You never did.
I would be walking or on the subway, whatever, and I would just burst into tears. But these weren’t Olivia tears. These were tears born from something else, from this kind of profound connection to everything. And I realized it was the collateral beauty.