Fair peace becomes men; ferocious anger belongs to beasts.

The sunset spread across the sky, painting it in shades of gold and crimson, casting long shadows on the quiet village street. The air was still, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the soft breeze. Jack and Jeeny sat at a small outdoor table, their cups of tea steaming between them, the warmth of the drink fighting against the coolness of the evening air. Jeeny stirred her tea slowly, her gaze fixed on Jack, waiting for the right moment.

Host: The light from the setting sun wrapped the world in an almost surreal glow, making everything feel like a scene out of a dream. But the quiet was only on the surface. Beneath it, tension simmered, the unsaid words hanging between them. Jack’s face was serious, his expression distant, as if the day’s events had already left their mark.

Jeeny: “I’ve been thinking about something Ovid said: ‘Fair peace becomes men; ferocious anger belongs to beasts.’ Do you think that’s true, Jack? Can we really call ourselves human if we let anger take over like that?”

Jack: He leaned back in his chair, the muscles in his jaw tightening, his eyes narrowing as he stared off into the distance. “I think that sounds like a nice ideal, Jeeny. But in the real world, sometimes anger is the only thing that keeps us from being walked all over. Sometimes, it’s the only thing that gets us through the day.”

Jeeny: She shifted slightly, her voice soft but firm. “Anger can feel like power, I get it. But it’s not power, Jack. It’s destruction. Peace — true peace — requires strength, not rage. Anger blinds you. It makes you see the world in black and white, and that’s no way to live.”

Jack: He stared at her, his lips curling into a half-smile, though there was no humor in it. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to make peace, Jeeny. But every time I try, someone else comes along and ruins it. You want to tell me to turn the other cheek, to forgive, but what if forgiveness just gets you stepped on again? Anger makes you fight back. It makes you stand your ground.”

Jeeny: She took a deep breath, her eyes steady, yet full of understanding. “I’m not asking you to be a doormat. But peace doesn’t mean weakness. It means having the strength to resist the urge to lash out, to fight with your mind, not your fists. Anger is the easy response, Jack. It’s the one that consumes you and leaves you with nothing but regret. Peace, on the other hand, gives you freedom. It allows you to move forward without the chains of past hurt.”

Jack: His hands clenched around his cup, his voice tightening. “And what if peace is just a fantasy? What if people don’t deserve it? What if some people only understand violence, only understand anger?”

Jeeny: “Then we break the cycle, Jack. Anger just fuels more anger. But peace — real peace — starts with us. True strength is found in calmness, in not letting the world shape you into something bitter. Anger makes us weak, makes us just as bad as the ones who hurt us.”

Host: The light from the fading sunset bathed them in a warm, golden glow, as if the universe itself was trying to offer them a moment of clarity. Jack sat quietly, his mind racing, the weight of Jeeny’s words sinking in slowly. The battle between his anger and the possibility of peace played out in the silent space between them.

Jack: “But can we really live without anger, Jeeny? Can we walk through the world without feeling the need to fight for what’s right? What happens when you’ve been hurt too many times, when you’ve been pushed too far? Isn’t anger a part of who we are?”

Jeeny: Her voice softened, but there was a strength to it, a quiet determination. “Anger isn’t who we are, Jack. It’s a reaction. It’s a defense mechanism we’ve built up to protect ourselves from the world. But we don’t have to let it define us. The world will keep trying to pull you into fury, into that fight. But you have a choice. You can either keep being consumed by it, or you can choose to stand in the peace that’s within you. Peace isn’t just about avoiding anger. It’s about not letting anger control your life.”

Jack: His eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “I don’t know if I can change, Jeeny. It’s hard to unlearn all the anger that’s been a part of me for so long.”

Jeeny: She smiled gently, her hand reaching across the table, resting lightly on his. “It’s not about erasing the anger, Jack. It’s about choosing to face the world from a place of peace, no matter what. Peace isn’t the absence of conflict, but the strength to choose a different path, even when everything around you is urging you to react.”

Host: The sun had fully set now, the stars beginning to pierce the deepening darkness of the night sky. The air between them felt lighter, the unspoken understanding growing stronger. The river before them continued to flow, undisturbed, as though offering a metaphor for the peace that Jeeny spoke of — steady, constant, but often ignored in favor of the turbulence that can easily overwhelm the soul.

Jack: He took a deep, slow breath, his eyes lingering on the night sky. “Maybe it’s time to try. To stop being consumed by the things that make me angry. Maybe peace is worth fighting for, after all.”

Jeeny: “It’s always worth fighting for, Jack. The world needs more people who choose peace over rage, who see the value in calmness over the noise of anger. If we don’t choose peace, then we’re just as lost as the ones who live to destroy it.”

Host: The evening silence hung between them, but it was a peaceful silence — the kind that comes after an important realization. For the first time in a long while, Jack felt something shift inside him. It wasn’t a grand change, but it was a beginning. The road ahead would still be hard, but maybe, just maybe, there was a path to peace that was worth walking after all.

The night wrapped around them, the stars above a silent reminder of the quiet strength of peace.