Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love.

What I needed most was to love and to be loved, eager to be caught. Happily I wrapped those painful bonds around me and sure enough, I would be lashed with the red-hot pokers or jealousy, by suspicions and fear, by burst of anger and quarrels.

Jealousy is bred in doubts. When those doubts change into certainties, then the passion either ceases or turns absolute madness.

I don't think that you can fake warmth. You can fake lust, jealousy, anger those are all quite easy. But actual, genuine warmth? I don't think you can fake it.

The thermometer of success is merely the jealousy of the malcontents.

Jealousy lives upon doubts. It becomes madness or ceases entirely as soon as we pass from doubt to certainty.

It's amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy.

Lovers may be - and indeed generally are - enemies, but they never can be friends, because there must always be a spice of jealousy and a something of Self in all their speculations.

What makes the pain we feel from shame and jealousy so cutting is that vanity can give us no assistance in bearing them.

Love shouldn't be about jealousy or anything like that. It should be about commitment and being able to trust that person. If you can't have that from the get-go, there's a problem.