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.