They appeared as some symbol of perfection in an indiscriminately imperfect world. ~ R. J. Ellory, A Quiet Belief in Angels

It’s not directed at me,
not limited to what affects mine.
What appears an imperfect world
limited to one – c’est moi – is not.
Only when busy comparing my insides
to everybody else’s outsides
could I mistake an egalitarian world
for one hopelessly biased,
the universe less one united against me.