Envy eats nothing but its own heart

Envy eats nothing but its own heart

Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer read more

Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.

All of which misery I saw, part of which I was.
[Lat., Quaeque ipse misserrima vidi, et quorum pars read more

All of which misery I saw, part of which I was.
[Lat., Quaeque ipse misserrima vidi, et quorum pars magna fui.]

Whoever feels pain in hearing a good character of his neighbor, will feel a pleasure in the reverse. And those read more

Whoever feels pain in hearing a good character of his neighbor, will feel a pleasure in the reverse. And those who despair to rise in distinction by their virtues, are happy if others can be depressed to a level of themselves.

Envy assails the noblest: the winds howl around the highest
peaks.
[Lat., Summa petit livor: perflant altissima venti.]

Envy assails the noblest: the winds howl around the highest
peaks.
[Lat., Summa petit livor: perflant altissima venti.]

Friends love misery, in fact. Sometimes, especially if we are too lucky or too successful or too pretty, our misery read more

Friends love misery, in fact. Sometimes, especially if we are too lucky or too successful or too pretty, our misery is the only thing that endears us to our friends.

Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew,
Thou mak'st thy knife keen; but no metal can--
read more

Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew,
Thou mak'st thy knife keen; but no metal can--
No, not the hangman's axe--bear half the keenness
Of thy sharp envy.

Envy is honors foe.

Envy is honors foe.

We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves
And spend our flatteries to drink those men
Upon whose read more

We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves
And spend our flatteries to drink those men
Upon whose age we void it up again
With poisonous spite and envy.