The bigger person, defined

Someone wrongs you at work and the cheap satisfaction is right there. Leave them off the email chain. Let the loading-dock crew hear your version first. Slow-walk the favor they'll need next week. It all reads as evening the score, and it all keeps the grudge alive by feeding it small meals.

Cicero, writing on what real strength of character looks like, drew the line exactly where most of us blur it: "not those who do injury but those who prevent it are to be considered brave and courageous" (De Officiis 1.65, Miller). Read that again with the score-settler in mind. The person nursing the payback isn't the strong one in the story. He's the one doing injury, dressed up as fairness. The strong one is whoever stops the harm from spreading — including the harm they could have dealt themselves.

This is the practice that lets a grudge die: when the chance to retaliate shows up, you recognize it as the weak move wearing a strong costume. You don't take it. Not because you're a pushover, but because greatness of spirit, as Cicero meant it, is shown in what you refuse to do.

The wrong was theirs. The retaliation would be yours. Only one of those is still in your hands.