Best 632 quotes in «jealousy quotes» category

People may not see you the way you see yourself. But, that's because they don't want to acknowledge your uniqueness. Jealousy is not disguised.

People love to do such things, attempting to degrade other individuals for their mistakes to fulfill their inner will in order to feel more noteworthy.

People say love is the international language. I'd say jealousy and anger are also pretty articulate.

People that are jealous and envious of you are too freaking lazy to step up their own game.

People usually gossip about people they don't quite understand, are jealous of, or have other negative feelings for.

People who hate you because of a mere jealousy over your success hurt themselves in disguise. This is because you carry an image of who they wish they had become. Don't hate them back because they may also become like you one day and it will mean hurting that image you carry!

People will be jealous of you for anything. Do bad and they will be jealous of you for being bad, do good and they will be jealous of you for being good, pull yourself up out of the ashes and they will be jealous of your strength, work hard and succeed and they will be jealous of your perseverance, buy new shoes and people will want to steal them, grow your hair long and people with want to cut it, laugh out loud and people will be jealous of your reasons for laughing. The truth is that envy is not because of you; but envy is in the eye of the beholder!

Perhaps that is the only cure for jealousy, to realize that the people we resent and envy for having what we lack, probably have wounds and scars of their own. They may even be envying us.

Perhaps we look at others and see only the things we don’t have.

Poetry is jealous of you tonight, for as soon as I come to pen a few words, your perfume attacks me in the most civilised manner and I forget myself. I forget the poem. I forget the ...

Poor and content is rich, and rich enough; But riches fineless is as poor as winter To him that ever fears he shall be poor;– Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend From jealousy!

Poor thing. I note I already feel affection for her, and I have the weirdest urge, on the one hand, to go and sit with her and tell her stories or read to her while she's on bed rest, while on the other hand I want to smother her with a pillow or give her a bunch of tranquilizers or sleeping pills so she gives me back the world, so it gets given back to me, the world and everything that has to do with it.

Quando Odette deixasse de ser para ele uma criatura sempre ausente, cobiçada, imaginária, quando o sentimento que ele tinha por ela não fosse mais aquela mesma perturbação misteriosa que lhe causava a frase da sonata e sim afeto, reconhecimento, quando se estabelecessem entre ambos relações normais que poriam fim à loucura e à tristeza dele, então sem dúvida os atos da vida de Odette lhe pareceriam si mesmos pouco interessantes.

Ravings, in short, jealousy of the past, the worst kind of all.

Rasa cemburu adalah obat yang lebih adiktif dan memuaskan daripada apa pun yang dikenal oleh umat manusia. Efeknya instan, menyambar kita lebih cepat daripada kilat, dan membuat kita mabuk dalam sekejap. Begitu kita berada di sana, teler berkat hal yang disebut kecemburuan ini, kita melihat kesempatan untuk curiga di mana-mana.

Rachel crossed her arms. “And the other three Oracles? I’m sure none of them was a beautiful young priestess whom you praised for her…what was it?…‘scintillating conversation’?” “Ah…” I wasn’t sure why, but it felt like my acne was turning into live insects and crawling across my face. “Well, according to my extensive research—” “Some books he flipped through last night,” Meg clarified.

Read voraciously. Read and get jealous. Get competitive. Read like a student. Read critically and generously." —Judy Clain, vice president and editor in chief of @littlebrown

Rendall's first law of jealousy: jealousy does the cock harder and pussy wetter.

Reassuring a jealous woman that you don't want her man creates the bigger beast of resentment because that tells her that what she has isn't desirable and to her, where the opinions of others correlates to her self-worth, is unforgivable.

Really, Sage? A date?" I sighed. "Yes, Adrian. A date." A real date. Not, like, doing homework together," he added. "I mean like where you go out to a movie or something. And a movie that's not part of a school assignment. Or about something boring." "A real date." I figured I wouldn't give him the specifics on the Shakespheare play. "What's the lucky guy's name?" "Brayden." There was a pause. "Brayden? That his real name?" "Why are you asking if everything's real? You think I'd make any of this up?" "No, no," Adrian assured me. "That what's so ynbelievable about it. Is he cute?" I glanced at the clock. It was time for me to meet my study group. "Gee, maybe I should just send you a picture to review?" "Yes, please. And a full background check and life history." "I have to go. Why do you care so much anyway?" I finally asked in exasperation. His answer took a long time, which was uncharacteristic.

Refusing to listen to him any longer, Julian backs up. “Whenever you realize working together is in Summer’s best interest, come find me, Boy Scout. Until then, I’ll just pretend you don’t exist.” Then he walks away. Gage glares at Julian’s retreating form. His hand scrapes through his hair as he fumes. A guttural roar of rage crawls up his throat, and he kicks the sand. Damn him and his stupid logic. He’s right. And Gage knows he’s right. But that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

REMEMBER THE LOTUS FLOWER Great people will always be mocked by those Who feel smaller than them. A lion does not flinch at laughter coming from a hyena. A gorilla does not budge from a banana thrown at it by a monkey. A nightingale does not stop singing its beautiful song At the intrusion of an annoying woodpecker. Whenever you should doubt your self-worth, remember the lotus flower. Even though it plunges to life from beneath the mud, It does not allow the dirt that surrounds it To affect its growth or beauty. Be that lotus flower always. Do not allow any negativity or ugliness In your surroundings, Destroy your confidence, Affect your growth, Or make you question your self-worth. It is very normal for one ugly weed To not want to stand alone. Remember this always. If you were ugly, Or just as small as they feel they are, Then they would not feel so bitter and envious Each and every time they are forced To glance up at magnificently Divine YOU. REMEMBER THE LOTUS FLOWER by Suzy Kassem

Roses do not take beauty advice from weeds.

Segala kejahatan manusia dan kesuksesan manusia diawali oleh satu hal yang sama : iri hati. Terserah manusianya, rasa ini mau diarahkan ke kebaikan atau ke kejahatan.

See, it's not that I'm jealous of others. I just don't understand why they can be happy and I can't.

... seeking to indicate to her by the extent of his gratitude the corresponding intensity of the pleasures which it was in her power to bestow on him, the supreme pleasure being to guarantee him immunity, for as long as his love should last and he remain vulnerable, from the assaults of jealousy.

She had in truth no abstract propensity to malice: she did not dislike Lily because the latter was brilliant and predominant, but because she thought that Lily disliked her. It is less mortifying to believe one's self unpopular than insignificant, and vanity prefers to assume that indifference is a latent form of unfriendliness.

She gave her husband such a night of sexual pleasure that his eyes followed her constantly after that, narrow and hot. He grew molten when she passed near other men, and at night they made their own shaking tent. They got teased too much and moved farther off, into the brush, into the nesting ground of shy and holy loons. There, no one could hear them. In solitude they made love until they became gaunt and hungry, pale windigos with aching eyes, tongues of flame.

She has that voraciousness about children. She swoops in on them. Even I, in public was a beloved child. She'd parade me into town, smiling and teasing me, tickling me as she spoke with people on the sidewalks. When we got home, she'd trail off to her room like an unfinished sentence, and I would sit outside with my face pressed against her door, and replay the day in my head, searching for clues to what I had done to displease her. I have one memory that catches in me like a nasty clump of blood. Marian was dead about two years, and my mother had a cluster of friends come over for afternoon drinks. For hours, the child was cooed over, smothered with red lipstick kisses, tidied up with tissues, then lipstick smacked again. I was suppose to be reading in my room, but I sat at the top of the stairs watching. My mother finally was handed the baby, and she cuddled it ferociously. Oh, how, wonderful it is to hold a baby again! Adora jiggled it on her knee, walked it around the rooms, whispered to it, and I looked down from above like a spiteful little god, the back of my hand placed against my face, imagining how it felt to be cheek to cheek with my mother.

She is my girlfriend, I can do whatever I want to her. In fact, I’m going to take her home and fuck her from here to eternity, how about that?

Shakespeare calls jealousy yellow and green; I think it may be called black and white for it most assuredly views white as black, and black as white. The most fanciful surmises wear the aspect of truth, the greatest improbabilities appear as consistent realities.

She had signed her own death-warrant. He kept telling himself over and over that he was not to blame, she had brought it on herself. He had never seen the man. He knew there was one. He had known for six weeks now. Little things had told him. One day he came home and there was a cigar-butt in an ashtray, still moist at one end, still warm at the other. There were gasoline-drippings on the asphalt in front of their house, and they didn't own a car. And it wouldn't be a delivery-vehicle, because the drippings showed it had stood there a long time, an hour or more. And once he had actually glimpsed it, just rounding the far corner as he got off the bus two blocks down the other way. A second-hand Ford. She was often very flustered when he came home, hardly seemed to know what she was doing or saying at all. He pretended not to see any of these things; he was that type of man, Stapp, he didn't bring his hates or grudges out into the open where they had a chance to heal. He nursed them in the darkness of his mind. That's a dangerous kind of a man. If he had been honest with himself, he would have had to admit that this mysterious afternoon caller was just the excuse he gave himself, that he'd daydreamed of getting rid of her long before there was any reason to, that there had been something in him for years past now urging Kill, kill, kill. Maybe ever since that time he'd been treated at the hospital for a concussion. ("Three O'Clock")

She had to strive to make every thought obedient to the love of Christ whatever violent feelings churned within her. She had to take her every thought captive to the obedience of Christ and leave no room for anger and jealousy and thoughts of revenge.

She let the jealousy slip out of her fingertips.

She made a visual inventory of the disaster and confirmed that the girl was curled up like a snail, her head hidden between her arms: terrified but intact. "My God!" Rosa Cabarcas exclaimed. "What I wouldn’t have given for a love like this!

She's just jealous, people say, as if jealousy is something minor. But it's not, it's the worst, it's the worst feeling there is - incoherent and confused and shameful, and at the same time self-righteous and focused and hard as glass, like a view through a telescope. A feeling of total concentration, but total powerlessness.

She's in trouble, but I envy her.

So it's true what they say about warlocks, then?" Alec gave him a very unpleasant look. "What's true?" "Alexander," said Magnus coldly, and Clary met Simon's eyes across the table. Hers were wide, green, and full of an expression that said Uh-oh. "You can't be rude to everyone who talks to me." Alec made a wide, sweeping gesture. "And why not? Cramping your style, am I? I mean, maybe you were hoping to flirt with werewolf boy here. He's pretty attractive, if you like the messy-haired, broad-shouldered, chiseled-good-looks type." "Hey, now," said Jordan mildly. Magnus put his head in his hands. "Or there are plenty of pretty girls here, since apparently your taste goes both ways, Is there anything you aren't into?" "Mermaids," said Magnus into his fingers. "They always smell like seaweed." "It's not funny," Alec said savagely, and kicking back his chair, he got up from the table and stalked off into the crowd.

She was so beautiful tonight he knew he would die of it. He hated that anyone else should see it. He wished it were something he alone could see. And he knew he was alone, that nobody saw it but him. And he knew that everyone could see it. And still no one could but him.

Society is competitive and some feel inferior and are jealous of others. This motivates them to believe and spread lies. They satisfy their malevolence to lift themselves. In the world I want to live in, any form of gossip should be illegal and people should talk only about arts and sciences.

Siempre he dicho que los celos saben más que la verdad.

Some people are each way more hurt by their worst enemy’s success than they were hurt by their then best friend’s death.

Some of the people who we envy for having something we lack envy us for lacking something they have.

Some people are each holding on to a lover of theirs who no longer loves them and/or who they no longer love, only because they do not want to have a reason or another reason to be jealous of the person who would eventually be their lover if they let go of them.

Some people’s unhappiness caused or was caused by some people’s happiness.

Some people hate people who are overconfident, only because their overconfidence reminds them of their underconfidence.

Some prevailing signs of social climbers are their: - ticking cunning ambition - times of deceit - hand of wickedness - gloves of bigotry - hidden bunch of schemes - cup of pride - sip of prejudice - odour of greed - grit of hatred Their favorite hunger is comparing themselves to others. A thirst of competition with sloth, jealousy and anger at their spirits.

Stay away to abuse and misemploy knowledge, and neutrality with jealousy since it reflects the lack of sense.

Sometimes, I think that I love life so much, that I make death jealous...

So you really meant what you said to me yesterday?" Her voice rose. "I should find myself a nice wolf and settle down?" He fought off the rising incursions of dissonance, the razor blades sliding through his brain stem and traveling down his spine. "That would be rushing things.