C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.
Jealousy
Love’s sentinel.
Jealousy is not love, but self-love.
Jealousy lives upon doubts.
Jealousy is the paralysis of love.
He that is not jealous is not in love.
Jealousy is one of love’s parasites.
What frenzy dictates, jealousy believes.
Oft my jealousy shapes faults that are not.
How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
Jealousy is the apprehension of superiority.
Self-harming jealousy.
Jealousy is sustained as often by pride as by affection.
A jealous man always finds more than he looks for.
Jealousy is the forerunner of love, and often its awakener.
A jealous lover lights his torch from the firebrand of the fiend.
Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love.
O, what damned minutes tells he o’er, who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves!
Jealousy, thou grand counterpoise for all the transports beauty can inspire!
Jealousy is the sister of love, as the devil is the brother of angels.
There is never jealousy where there is not strong regard.
’Tis a monster begot upon itself, born on itself.
The jealous is possessed by a “fine mad devil” and a dull spirit at once.
Jealousy is an awkward homage which inferiority renders to merit.
Jealousy is always born with love, but does not always die with it.
Jealousy lives upon doubt, and comes to an end or becomes a fury as soon as it passes from doubt to certainty.
Jealousy, that doats but dooms, and murders, yet adores.
O jealousy! thou magnifier of trifles.
Jealousy—it is a green-eyed monster, which doth mock the meat it feeds on.
Love often reillumes his extinguished flame at the torch of jealousy.
Jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame.
The jealous man’s disease is of so malignant a nature that it converts all it takes into its own nourishment.
Men of strong affections are jealous of their own genius. They fear lest they should be loved for a quality, and not for themselves.
People who are jealous, or particularly careful of their own rights and dignity, always find enough of those who do not care for either to keep them continually uncomfortable.
Men are the cause of women not loving one another.
Jealousy sees things always with magnifying glasses which make little things large,—of dwarfs giants, suspicions truths.
Women detest a jealous man whom they do not love, but it angers them when a man they do love is not jealous at times.
Jealousy is never satisfied with anything short of an omniscience that would detect the subtlest fold of the heart.
Jealousy is said to be the offspring of love. Yet, unless the parent makes haste to strangle the child, the child will not rest till it has poisoned the parent.
Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.
Jealousy is a painful passion; yet without some share of it, the agreeable affection of love has difficulty to subsist in its full force and violence.
Of all the passions, jealousy is that which exacts the hardest service and pays the bitterest wages. Its service is, to watch the success of our enemy, to be sure of it.
To doubt is an injury; to suspect a friend is breach of friendship; jealousy is a seed sown but in vicious minds; prone to distrust, because apt to deceive.
All the other passions condescend at times to accept the inexorable logic of facts; but jealousy looks facts straight in the face, ignores them utterly, and says that she knows a great deal better than they can tell her.
It is with jealousy as with the gout. When such distempers are in the blood, there is never any security against their breaking out, and that often on the slightest occasions, and when least suspected.
We are more jealous of frivolous accomplishments with brilliant success, than of the most estimable qualities without. Dr. Johnson envied Garrick, whom he despised, and ridiculed Goldsmith, whom he loved.
O jealousy, thou ugliest fiend of hell! thy deadly venom preys on my vitals, turns the healthful hue of my fresh cheek to haggard sallowness, and drinks my spirit up.
Love may exist without jealousy, although this is rare: but jealousy may exist without love, and this is common; for jealousy can feed on that which is bitter no less than on that which is sweet, and is sustained by pride as often as by affection.