Dad would call it my Sisyphus toll. Push a boulder up a hill, pretending it’s okay, and come nightfall it - and I - come crashing down. But he forgets the view each time I make it to the top.
We will remember them tomorrow. We will remember them for all our tomorrows. And there will be many more tomorrows; there'll be thousands of them. So let's make them good ones. We are Opportunity, and we will not be afraid. We are Opportunity, and we will live.
