When however small a measure of jealousy is mixed with misunderstanding, there is going to be trouble.
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.
One of the tortures of jealousy is, that it can never turn its eyes away from the thing that pains it.
Jealousy is never satisfied with anything short of an omniscience that would detect the subtlest fold of the heart.
He whom the flame of jealousy encompasseth, turneth at last, like the scorpion, the poisoned sting against himself.[Wen die Flamme der Eifersucht umringt, der wendet zuletzt, gleich dem Scorpione, gegen sich selber den vergifteten Stachel.]
Cruelty has a Human Heart, and Jealousy a Human Face; terror the Human Form Divine, and Secrecy the Human Dress.
But jealous souls will not be answer’d so; They are not ever jealous for the cause, But jealous for they are jealous.