When the rain came, the
blood was washed into the filthy gutters, drained into the crumbling
sewers, and soaked into the hungry
ground.
When the rain came, the dry, cracked lips of the dying met water, and, between coughs, managed a smile.
When the rain came, old man Gonzalez came out of his shed for the first time in weeks. Kneeling next to a puddle, he spashed the water onto his face, wiping off the bootprints.
When the rain came, a small weed was spotted forcing itself upward through the concrete and metal.
When the rain came, the cameras were shorted out, the lights blinked off, and the microphones went dead.
When the rain came, there were reports of people walking through the streets unescorted. In one alley, there was an echo that could only be the laugh of a child.
When the rain came, a young man looked upward, and for the first time, saw clouds, sunlight, and water which fell from the sky. Now it would not matter if they fixed the roof of the dome; he now slept with the knowledge of existence beyond his experience.
Your voice matters.
By the way, I thought I should point out that Voltaire never said or wrote the words which you (and about a billion others) attribute to him. Do a little research and I believe you'll discover that the phrase was used about his attitudes by biographer Evelyn Beatrice Hall in 1906. I'll look up the exact source when I have more time.