I often find that people confuse inner peace with some sense of insensibility whenever something goes wrong. In such cases inner peace is a permit for destruction: The unyielding optimist will pretend that the forest is not burning either because he is too lazy or too afraid to go and put the fire out.
Sometimes you think you've found love, when it's really just one of those objects that are shiny in a certain light--a trophy, say, or a ring, or a diamond, even. Glass shards, maybe. You've got to be careful, you do. The shine can blind you. The edges can cut you in way you never imagined. It is up to you to allow that or not.
I will go, once I have said what I came here to say.I will never shrink from the anger in your eyes-you can't destroy me. Listen to me closely: the man you have sought for so long, proclaiming, cursing up and down, the murderer of Laius-he is here. A stranger, you may think, who lives among you, he soon will be revealed a native Thebanbut he will take no joy in the revelation. Blind who now has eyes, beggar who now is rich, he will grope his way toward a foreign soil,A stick tapping before him step by step. Revealed at last, brother and father bothto the children he embraces, to his motherson and husband both - he sowed the loinshis father sowed, he spilled his father's blood!Go in and reflect on that, solve that. And if you find I've liedfrom this day onward call the prophet blind. Robert Fagles Sophocles
Cassie fumbled helplessly beneath the shade of the ancient oak, still searching for her second shoe. The first had been easy to find, having landed close to where she had kicked it off; and when her hand had finally encountered it, she clutched it to her breast in a gesture of smug triumph. For one brief moment, she felt a twinge of sympathy for the sighted people who would never experience such sweet victory from a task as simple as finding a shoe.