Quotes About Jealousy

One of the greatest sorrows of human existence is that some people aren't happy merely to be alive but find their happiness only in the misery of others.

damned might call jealously to the living. Three more shots follow the first three.

It was hideous. Because if someone can be that happy? That perfect? What's that say about the rest of us?

Damn right I begrudge! I grudge every memory of yours that doesna hold me, and every tear ye've shed for another, and every second you've spent in another man's bed!

We thought you were dead, you bloody arsehole!" he said, furious. "Both of us! Dead! And we—we—took too much to drink one night—very much too much Ã¢â'¬Â¦ We spoke of you Ã¢â'¬Â¦ and Ã¢â'¬Â¦ Damn you, neither one of us was making love to the other—we were both fucking you!

And a long time," he said. "I am a jealous man, but not a vengeful one. I would take you from him, my Sassenach—but I wouldna take him from you.

Sometimes it would be months—even a year or more—between episodes, and we would live in peace together. But then it would happen again; the silent phone calls, the too-excused absences, the late nights. Never anything so overt as another woman's perfume, or lipstick on his collar—he had discretion. But I always felt the ghost of the other woman, whoever she was; some faceless, indistinguishable She. I

An unaccustomed weed of jealousy sprang up in Jamie's heart, stinging like nettles. He stamped firmly on it; he was fortunate indeed to know that his son enjoyed a loving relationship with his stepfather. There, that was the weed stamped out. The stamping, though, seemed to have left a small bruised spot on his heart; he could feel it when he breathed.

I lay still, wondering exactly what was the matter with me. Or rather, not what, but why. I knew by now what it was, all right; it was jealousy. I was indeed jealous; an emotion I hadn't felt for some years, and was appalled to feel now. I

Lord John had been nothing but courtesy itself to me. More than that, he had been intelligent, thoughtful—thoroughly charming, in fact. And listening to him making intelligent, thoughtful, charming conversation with Jamie knotted my insides and made me clench my hands under cover of the quilt. You are an idiot, I told myself savagely.

I meant no offense," he added a moment later, in a softer tone. "I was surprised." I looked at him directly. I was too tired to be tactful. "And a bit jealous, perhaps?

you just said that you suspect my husband of wanting to

Jamie's back was turned to me, but Lord John faced the hallway; he could have seen me easily, had he looked. He wasn't looking toward the hallway, though. He was staring at Jamie, and on his face was a look of such naked hunger that the blood rushed to my own cheeks when I saw it. I dropped my fan. I saw the Governor's head turn, startled at the sound. Then I was running down the hall, back toward the salon, my heartbeat drumming in my ears.

Laoghaire." Even now, I could not repress a brief spurt of rage at the girl's name. Out of thwarted jealousy over my having married Jamie, she had deliberately tried to have me killed. Considerable depths of malice for a sixteen-year-old girl. And even now, mingled with the rage was that tiny spark of grim satisfaction; he's mine, I thought, almost subconsciously. Mine. You'll never take him from me. Never.

You don't mind, if he Ã¢â'¬Â¦ takes other lovers? Or he you, come to that?

He felt a moment's passionate gratitude to her. He'd seen her look at the boy, and knew how she must feel. She'd known about the lad, of course, but seeing the flesh-and-blood proof that her husband had shared another woman's bed wasn't something a wife should be asked to put up with. Little wonder if she was inclined to stick pins in John, him pushing the lad under her nose as he had.

There are some athletes who don't like me.

The horrible truth is that if you end up giving my wife more money than I've given her, she's more likely to find you attractive.

I'm envious of writers.

Envy aims very high.

I myself think anti-Semitism is about envy.

Just wait until he figures out I shut him out of his slut hut.

It happens the world over - we love ourselves more than we do the one we say we love. We all want to be Number One, we've got to be Number One or nothing! We can't see that we could make ourselves loved and needed in the Number Two, or Three, or Four spot. No sir, we've got to be Number One, and if we can't make it, we'll rip and tear at the loved one till we've ruined every smidgin of love that was ever there.

Possibly, more people kill themselves and others out of hurt vanity than out of envy, jealousy, malice or desire for revenge.