Best 452 quotes in «jealous quotes» category

Despite your best efforts you won’t make everyone happy. Most the time, despite these efforts, it will be the jealous one who displays their dissatisfaction.

Did I mention really, really jealous.

Envy is a less severe form of anger.

Envy is the desire to have what someone else has. Jealousy is the fear of losing what you have. The more insecure you are about yourself or your relationship, the more jealous you are, because you are afraid to lose your significant other to someone else.

Everyone has limitations. Know that when you always say “I wish I am like someone else”, you are attempting to take alongside someone’s limitation you may not be able to manage.

Every flower blooms at its own pace.

Every victory and success that God will give you will make others jealous; it will cause hatred and opposition as well

For where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy Doth call himself Affection's sentinel; Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny, And in a peaceful hour doth cry 'Kill, kill!

For a sane person to sincerely be happy that someone has succeeded, they have to either be profiting or likely to profit from that person’s success, or be that person.

Gossip is the sound of jealously.

From the driver’s side, one of Echo’s jean-clad legs dangled. “I’ve got a hard-on just looking at her, man,” said Isaiah as we strolled up the drive. “You’re ate up,” I replied, hoping he meant the car, not Echo. I’d hate to throw down with someone I considered family.

Hater you can find in a moment, but it takes an eternity to find a true well-wisher.

“Chloe isn’t flirting with that guy,” Simon said. “Course not.” “I mean it. She’s—” I glanced back at him. “I’m not blind. She’s only paying enough attention to him to be polite. He’s the one flirting, which is bugging her and that’s why I’m pissed off. She’s trying to eat her fries and he’s interrupting.” Simon chuckled.

Hello, Rylan,"Ivy greets me. Even with her transformation, her voice still has that magical quality about it. Her white arms wrap me in a hug, which I return. Throughout the room, I can hear disappointed sighs; the crazy-hot babe is taken.

He’s becoming useless. Worse than useless,” Sam said. Then, relenting, he said, “We’ll get past it.” “You mean you and Quinn?” “Yeah.” Astrid considered just keeping her mouth shut, not pushing it. But this was a talk she needed to have with Sam sooner or later. “I don’t think he’s going to get over it.” “You don’t know him that well.” “He’s jealous of you.” “Well, of course I am so terribly handsome,” Sam said, straining to make a joke of it. “He’s one kind of person, you’re another. When life is going along normally, you’re sort of the same. But when life turns strange and scary, when there’s a crisis, suddenly you’re completely different people. It’s not Quinn’s fault, really, but he’s not brave. He’s not strong. You are.

He who makes $25,000 annually through passive income is more enviable than he who earns $100,000 annually through a salary.

I blinked down the street where the jeep had vanished. I felt the unexplainable urge to storm after them and do something I'd hoped I'd regret -like choke Marcie with her stupid red thong.

I do not demand attention from a man however, when it is directed at me...I insist it is directed at ONLY me.... I do not share well...

I felt so ashamed with them because everything in their life was going so well and they were so sort of successful. I couldn't talk about what I wanted with them and they were always in a hurry.

If only you could see the greatness in yourself, you wouldn't envy the greatness in others.

If you're jealous of someone else it simply means you have not come to a true acceptance and appreciation of yourself.

If people are jealous of you, it means you are worth something.

If you have influence on other people. Dont be influenced by their hate, money, jealousy, anger and popularity .

I have seen you give him looks and smiles this very night, such as you never give to—me." "Do you want me then," said Estella, turning suddenly with a fixed and serious, if not angry look, "to deceive and entrap you?" "Do you deceive and entrap him, Estella?" "Yes, and many others—all of them but you.

I have to tell you something." Jonah spreads his jacket over the three of them. Hallelujah tucks the sleeve under her body. It’s like they’re being held together. Embraced. “I—” He takes a deep breath. “I really liked you. The whole time you liked Luke, I . . . I liked you. I was even going to ask you to ride on the ski lift with me in the fall, but Luke told me you’d already asked him.” Hallelujah is genuinely surprised. “He asked me.” “I know that now. I didn’t know it then. And you didn’t exactly look like you minded riding with him. Kissing him. And then when we walked in on you two—uh—making out—” “We were not making out,” Hallelujah cuts in. “I mean, not any more . . .” “Right. But like I said, I didn’t know that. You were practically on top of him, and you looked like—and Luke said it was all your idea, and you didn’t say anything, not then and not after—” He breaks off. Picks up again. “I didn’t like thinking about you doing something like that. I was mad. I wanted it to be me. That’s why I didn’t stand up for you. I liked you,” Jonah repeats

I love being in love, but I also love other things, like not being jealous, overly sensitive, or needy.

I'm not saying you are jealous or insecure. I'm just saying that you obsessing over another person's accomplishments makes you look that way.

I’m so jealous. Unthinkable jealousies, jealousies of the Pulitzer Prize–winning novel I’m reading and the Oscar- winning movie I just saw. Why didn’t I think to rewrite Mrs. Dalloway? I should have thought to chronicle a schizophrenic ballerina. It’s inexcusable. Everyone else is so successful, and I hate them.

He who is jealous is better off not dating someone who is bisexual.

I’m twenty-four, a first grade teacher, have a Yorkie named Pedro, a goldfish named Fish, have never had sex, or a serious boyfriend, and I’m the town lesbian who pukes when she sees a pussy. Nothing really to be jealous of at all.

I ought to be jealous of the tower. She is more famous than I am.

It is childish to envy someone for something you do not need.

It is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to think well of yourself while you are envious.

I’ve known him a long time. I admire him. Hell, I might even love him. He helped me when—well, he helped me, and I owe him. He never lies, never plays games. He always says what he means and means what he says. And he has made it clear you’re off-limits.

If you know yourself and don’t have a belief that other people are better than you, then you simply can’t feel jealous or threatened.

It is very normal for one ugly weed to not want to stand alone.

It required a great deal of Cam’s willpower—and he had a considerable supply—not to skewer Christopher Frost with a dining utensil. He wanted her attention. All of it.

It's dreadfully unfair to say things like that when this is likely the last time we will speak and we both know you don't mean what you say. It's pure selfishness that you want to keep me here.

I want to apologize to you,” she says calmly. “Oh yeah? For what?” I don’t have time for this. We don’t have time for this. I push away thoughts of what will happen to Hana even if I manage to escape. She’ll be here, in the house . . . My stomach is clenching and unclenching. I’m worried the bread will come straight back up. I have to stay focused. What happens to Hana isn’t my concern, and it isn’t my fault, either. “For telling the regulators about 37 Brooks,” she says. “For telling them about you and Alex.” Just like that, my brain powers down. “What?" “I told them.” She lets out a tiny exhalation, as though saying the words has given her relief. “I’m sorry. I was jealous.” I can’t speak. I’m swimming through a fog. “Jealous?” I manage to spit out. “I—I wanted what you had with Alex. I was confused. I didn’t understand what I was doing.” She shakes her head again. I have a swinging, seasick feeling. It doesn’t make any sense. Hana—golden girl Hana, my best friend, fearless and reckless. I trusted her. I loved her. “You were my best friend.” “I know.” Again she looks troubled, as though trying to recall the meaning of the words. “You had everything.” I can’t stop my voice from rising. The anger is vibrating, ripping through me like a live current. “Perfect life. Perfect grades. Everything.” I gesture to the spotless kitchen, to the sunshine pouring over the marble counters like drizzled butter. “I had nothing. He was my one thing. My only—” The sickness surges up and I take a step forward, clenching my fists, blind with rage. “Why couldn’t you let me have it? Why did you have to take it? Why did you always take everything?

I wasn't trying to make you jealous. But if jealousy does this to you, I might need to consider it.” He gripped my sides firmly, letting his lips gently dance over mine, “Mags, I’m yours. You have nothing to worry about.

I was so jealous it burned, and I knew I had to let it alone or I'd break something inside me.

Many people, who should have been rejoicing for what they've achieved, are rather regretting just because of one reason; they looked at what someone else was doing. Comparison eliminates contentment and then kills inner joy!

Now, do I dare ask what you guys are doing hiding out up here? Or is it going to make me jealous?" Simon was smiling as he said it, but Derek glanced away with a gruff "Course not." "So you weren't having another adventure?" Simon lowered himself on my other side, so close he brushed against me, hand resting on mine. "It sure looks like a good spot for one. Rooftop hideaway, old widow's walk. That is what that is, huh? A widow's walk?" "Yeah. And it's rotting, so stay off it," Derek said. "I did. So, adventure?" "A small one," I said. "Oh, man. I always miss them. Okay, break it to me gently.

Man allowed by God to do good and evil. That's why some of angels feel so jealous.

Many people and poets, especially, talk of love, without thought, without fear, without knowing, what it is, what it can make of us Love is not just grace and beauty, dandelions, a perfect song and rainbows in the sun Love is also bitter, jealous, fierce and cold, the darkest deeds sought and desired Love is a tidal wave that you ride or don't, there is no in between state I burn with it....white hot, torn and bleeding from a thousand wounds I know it can consume or enliven me and either way I will know that I have loved you and it was true...

Most people are usually unable to enjoy what they are doing, or what they have or are having, when there is no one to envy them.

Matthew closed the door and turned toward her. He seemed very large in the small room, his broad frame dwarfing their civilized surroundings. Daisy’s mouth went dry as she stared at him. She wanted to be close to him… she wanted to feel all his skin against hers. “What is there between you and Llandrindon?” he demanded. “Nothing. Only friendship. On my side, that is.” “And on his side?” “I suspect— well, he seemed to indicate that he would not be averse to— you know.” “Yes, I know,” he said thickly. “And even though I can’t stand the bastard, I also can’t blame him for wanting you. Not after the way you’ve teased and tempted him all week.” “If you’re trying to imply that I’ve been acting like some femme fatale—” “Don’t try to deny it. I saw the way you flirted with him. The way you leaned close when you talked… the smiles, the provocative dresses…” “Provocative dresses?” Daisy asked in bemusement. “Like that one.” Daisy looked down at her demure white gown, which covered her entire chest and most of her arms. A nun couldn’t have found fault with it. She glanced at him sardonically. “I’ve been trying for days to make you jealous. You would have saved me a lot of effort if you’d just admitted it straight off.” “You were deliberately trying to make me jealous?” he exploded. “What in God’s name did you think that would accomplish? Or is turning me inside out your latest idea of an entertaining hobby?” A sudden blush covered her face. “I thought you might feel something for me… and I hoped to make you admit it.” Matthew’s mouth opened and closed, but he couldn’t seem to speak. Daisy wondered uneasily what emotion was working on him. After a few moments he shook his head and leaned against the dresser as if he needed physical support. “Are you angry?” she asked apprehensively. His voice sounded odd and ragged. “Ten percent of me is angry.” “What about the other ninety percent?” “That part is just a hairsbreadth away from throwing you on that bed and—” Matthew broke off and swallowed hard. “Daisy, you’re too damned innocent to understand the danger you’re in. It’s taking all the self-control I’ve got to keep my hands off you. Don’t play games with me, sweetheart. It’s too easy for you to torture me, and I’m at my limit. To put to rest any doubts you might have… I’m jealous of every man who comes within ten feet of you. I’m jealous of the clothes on your skin and the air you breathe. I’m jealous of every moment you spend out of my sight.” Stunned, Daisy whispered, “You… you certainly haven’t shown any sign of it.” “Over the years I’ve collected a thousand memories of you, every glimpse, every word you’ve ever said to me. All those visits to your family’s home, those dinners and holidays— I could hardly wait to walk through the front door and see you.” The corners of his mouth quirked with reminiscent amusement. “You, in the middle of that brash, bull-headed lot… I love watching you deal with your family. You’ve always been everything I thought a woman should be. And I have wanted you every second of my life since we first met.

Millions upon millions will attain your ceremony, but don't think all of them are in a ceremonius mood.

More people would be depressed, if parents tried to please their children as frequently and as badly as children try to please their parents.

Most people do not want much. All they want is to be envied by most people.