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.
You are all my children, and you’re lost, because you follow blind leaders. These false gods, systems of the weak, they’ve ruined my world. No more.
The world is quite like London. It’s not good. It’s not bad. It just is. There’s no morality or dishonor. Just your own lonely code. Until your race is run. Until the end. Until we’re all just ghosts of the people we once thought we were.
The world needs the X-Men.
All I have in this world is my balls and my word, and I don’t break ’em for no one.
You are not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your f*****g khakis. You’re the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.
The only wealth in this world is children. More than all the money and power on earth.
Prison is no fairy-tale world.
No one stays good in this world.
Man made a world where standing together is impossible.
In an insane world, a sane man must appear insane.