As iron is eaten by rust, so are the envious consumed by envy.

A show of envy is an insult to oneself.

Whoever envies another confesses his superiority.

Pity is for the living, envy is for the dead.

The jealous bring down the curse they fear upon their own heads.

Trifles light as air, are to the jealous confirmations strong as proofs of holy writ.

Envy lurks at the bottom of the human heart like a viper in its hole.

Envy is ignorance.

Jealousy injures us with the dagger of self-doubt.

Jealousy is an awkward homage which inferiority renders to merit.

Jealousy and love are sisters.

Envy is thin because it bites but never eats.

Jealousy is no more than feeling alone against smiling enemies.

Pure love allows no room for jealousy.

Love shouldn’t be about jealousy or anything like that.

Passion can quickly slip into jealousy or even hatred.

Envy suggests inferiority.

Jealousy is the grave of affection.

To jealousy, nothing is more frightful than laughter.