“I suppose a cry does us all good at times-clears the air as other rain does.”
“Just as a good rain clears the air, a good writing day clears the psyche.”
“Ah," cried Gavroche, "what does this mean? It rains again! ...If this continues, I withdraw my subscription.”
“There is but one Paris and however hard living may be here, and if it became worse and harder even—the French air clears up the brain and does good—a world of good.”
“...on the other hand the machine does not bleed, ache, hang for hours in the empty sky in a torment of hope to learn the fate of another machine, nor does it cry out with joy nor dance in the air with the fierce passion of a bird.”
“Being there was like having a good cry, the clearing of the air after weight has been held.”