The venom clamours of a jealous woman poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.
William ShakespeareRead
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The venom clamours of a jealous woman poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.
To cure jealousy is to see it for what it is, a dissatisfaction with self.
Pity is for the living, envy is for the dead.
The jealous man's disease is of so malignant a nature, that it converts all it takes into its own nourishment.
One has to be very alert to go beyond lust. And one has to be constantly aware of jealousy, of possessiveness, of domination, because those are the strategies of lust. If you drop jealousy, possessiveness, ego trips, then slowly slowly lust disappears and love arises. Love is a pure flame without any smoke. It is prayer, it is divine, and it makes you divine.
Jealousy in romance is like salt in food. A little can enhance the savor, but too much can spoil the pleasure and, under certain circumstances, can be life-threatening.
Envy is a littleness of soul, which cannot see beyond a certain point, and if it does not occupy the whole space feels itself excluded.
If you don't have enemies, you don't have character.
Trifles light as air are to the jealous confirmations strong as proofs of holy writ.
He who surpasses or subdues mankind, must look down on the hate of those below.
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.
You can only be jealous of someone who has something you think you ought to have yourself.
Wisdom I know is social. She seeks her fellows. But Beauty is jealous, and illy bears the presence of a rival.
So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
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