And my grandfather, who had held real power for forty years, understood that this impulse — however satisfying, however deserved — is almost always a mistake, and not for the reasons people usually give.

It is a mistake not because it is too cruel to your enemies, but because it is a way of letting your enemies keep controlling you.

Anger-driven power is reactive power; it is you, still dancing to the tune of the people who hurt you, still letting them set the terms, still organizing your actions around them.

The person burning down the house out of rage is not free.

They are as bound to the object of their rage as a devoted lover is to the beloved.

What my grandfather was teaching me was that real freedom, and real power, looks like restraint — like doing only what the situation requires, precisely and no more, and then turning, calmly, back toward your own life.