Lovers may be and indeed generally are enemies but they never can be friends because there must always be a spice of jealousy and a something of Self in all their speculations.

I do not say anything from jealousy.

I have experienced jealousy possessiveness verbal abuse and violence from men but I have also experienced jealousy possessiveness verbal abuse and violence from women usually when I failed to respond to their advances.

But when I would see the surrogate my first instinct my first reaction would be jealousy because she was doing what I wanted to do.

Jealousy would be far less torturous if we understood that love is a passion entirely unrelated to our merits.

There is something mean in human nature that prefers to think evil that gives a willing ear and a ready welcome to calumny a sort of jealousy of goodness and greatness and things of good report.

People can do all kinds of things that maybe aren't wise in hindsight because of jealousy.

Nature is at work. Character and destiny are her handiwork. She gives us love and hate jealousy and reverence. All that is ours is the power to choose which impulse we shall follow.

Jealousy is not at all low but it catches us humbled and bowed down at first sight.

That is ever the way. 'Tis all jealousy to the bride and good wishes to the corpse.

Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent.

The surest route to breeding jealousy is to compare. Since jealousy comes from feeling less than another comparisons only fan the fires.

There is a sort of jealousy which needs very little fire it is hardly a passion but a blight bred in the cloudy damp despondency of uneasy egoism.

Love shouldn't be about jealousy or anything like that. It should be about commitment and being able to trust that person. If you can't have that from the get-go there's a problem.

What makes the pain we feel from shame and jealousy so cutting is that vanity can give us no assistance in bearing them.

Lovers may be - and indeed generally are - enemies but they never can be friends because there must always be a spice of jealousy and a something of Self in all their speculations.

Jealousy lives upon doubts. It becomes madness or ceases entirely as soon as we pass from doubt to certainty.

The thermometer of success is merely the jealousy of the malcontents.

Serious sport has nothing to do with fair play. It is bound up with hatred jealousy boastfulness disregard of all rules and sadistic pleasure in witnessing violence. In other words it is war minus the shooting.

The knives of jealousy are honed on details.

Jealousy is the grave of affection.

Jealousy is the jaundice of the soul.

Passion can quickly slip to jealousy or even hatred.

From heresy frenzy and jealousy good Lord deliver me.