I like to call this Onion Station sometimes, because it makes me cry. No, sorry, that's not true. I call it Onion Station because I am a child in a grown-up body.
But I guess in some ways it could be seen as a mecca for tears? So many people arrive and depart from the big Onion that it's hard to imagine that a many a sob hasn't happened on or around it's massive pillars. It's just such a mid point for the city; the anchor of the subway, where all the trains lead to.
Plus it's beautiful in that old Toronto kind of way....which is hard to find now a days. GAWD! I sound old... (feeble old lady voice) "back in my time, kids addressed their father by the name of sir and there sure as hell wasn't no thing called soy!"