If we did but know how little some enjoy of the great things that they possess, there would not be read more

If we did but know how little some enjoy of the great things that they possess, there would not be much envy in the world.

Oh, what a bitter thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.

Oh, what a bitter thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.

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.

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.

The general's disdained
By him one step below, he by the next,
The next by him beneath; read more

The general's disdained
By him one step below, he by the next,
The next by him beneath; so every step,
Exampled by the first pace that is sick
Of his superior, grows to an envious fever
Of pale and bloodless emulation:
And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,
Not her own sinews.

Envy is like a fly that passes all the body's sounder parts, and dwells upon the sores.

Envy is like a fly that passes all the body's sounder parts, and dwells upon the sores.

The envious pine at others' success; no greater punishment than
envy was devised by Sicilian tyrants.
[Lat., Invidus read more

The envious pine at others' success; no greater punishment than
envy was devised by Sicilian tyrants.
[Lat., Invidus alterius marescit rebus opimis;
Invidia Siculi non invenere tyranni
Majus tormentus.]

Envy, like fire, soars upward.
[Lat., Invidiam, tamquam ignem, summa petere.]

Envy, like fire, soars upward.
[Lat., Invidiam, tamquam ignem, summa petere.]

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That read more

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious.
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.