Envy Adams Quotes

When I was a girl I would look out my bedroom window at the caterpillars; I envied them so much. No matter what they were before, no matter what happened to them, they could just hide away and turn into these beautiful creatures that could fly away completely untouched.

Wherever there is great property there is great inequality. For one very rich man there must be at least five hundred poor, and the affluence of the few supposes the indigence of the many. The affluence of the rich excites the indignation of the poor, who are often both driven by want, and prompted by envy, to invade his possessions.

The poor man's son, whom heaven has in its anger visited with ambition, goes beyong admiration of palaces to envy. He labours all his life to outdo his competitors, only to find the end that the rich are no happier than the poor in the things that really matter.

With a kind of wry envy, Hazel realized that Bigwig was actually looking forward to meeting the Efrafan assault. He knew he could fight and he meant to show it. He was not thinking of anything else. The hopelessness of their chances had no important place in his thoughts. Even the sound of the digging, clearer already, only set him thinking of the best way to sell his life as dearly as he could.

But I was born in the image of God, a man, a creator, with power of life and death, a father, blessed with the gift of the seed of Adam, a sower of seed, to bring forth generations of new life. This I was, and envying a kettle.

It was the general opinion of ancient nations, that the divinity alone was adequate to the important office of giving laws to men... and modern nations, in the consecrations of kings, and in several superstitious chimeras of divine rights in princes and nobles, are nearly unanimous in preserving remnants of it... Is the jealousy of power, and the envy of superiority, so strong in all men, that no considerations of public or private utility are sufficient to engage their submission to rules for their own happiness? Or is the disposition to imposture so prevalent in men of experience, that their private views of ambition and avarice can be accomplished only by artifice? — … There is nothing in which mankind have been more unanimous; yet nothing can be inferred from it more than this, that the multitude have always been credulous, and the few artful. The United States of America have exhibited, perhaps, the first example of governments erected on the simple principles of nature: and if men are now sufficiently enlightened to disabuse themselves of artifice, imposture, hypocrisy, and superstition, they will consider this event as an era in their history. Although the detail of the formation of the American governments is at present little known or regarded either in Europe or America, it may hereafter become an object of curiosity. It will never be pretended that any persons employed in that service had any interviews with the gods, or were in any degree under the inspiration of heaven, any more than those at work upon ships or houses, or labouring in merchandize or agriculture: it will for ever be acknowledged that these governments were contrived merely by the use of reason and the senses. As Copley painted Chatham, West, Wolf, and Trumbull, Warren and Montgomery; as Dwight, Barlow, Trumbull, and Humphries composed their verse, and Belknap and Ramzay history; as Godfrey invented his quadrant, and Rittenhouse his planetarium; as Boylston practised inoculation, and Franklin electricity; as Paine exposed the mistakes of Raynal, and Jefferson those of Buffon, so unphilosophically borrowed from the Recherches Philosophiques sur les Américains those despicable dreams of de Pauw — neither the people, nor their conventions, committees, or sub-committees, considered legislation in any other light than ordinary arts and sciences, only as of more importance. Called without expectation, and compelled without previous inclination, though undoubtedly at the best period of time both for England and America, to erect suddenly new systems of laws for their future government, they adopted the method of a wise architect, in erecting a new palace for the residence of his sovereign. They determined to consult Vitruvius, Palladio, and all other writers of reputation in the art; to examine the most celebrated buildings, whether they remain entire or in ruins; compare these with the principles of writers; and enquire how far both the theories and models were founded in nature, or created by fancy: and, when this should be done, as far as their circumstances would allow, to adopt the advantages, and reject the inconveniences, of all. Unembarrassed by attachments to noble families, hereditary lines and successions, or any considerations of royal blood, even the pious mystery of holy oil had no more influence than that other of holy water: the people universally were too enlightened to be imposed on by artifice; and their leaders, or more properly followers, were men of too much honour to attempt it. Thirteen governments thus founded on the natural authority of the people alone, without a pretence of miracle or mystery, which are destined to spread over the northern part of that whole quarter of the globe, are a great point gained in favour of the rights of mankind. [Preface to 'A Defence of the Constitutions of the United States of America', 1787]

Some people envied Ronan’s money. Adam envied his time. To be as rich as Ronan was to be able to go to school and do nothing else, to have luxurious swathes of time in which to study and write papers and sleep. Adam wouldn’t admit it to anyone, least of all Gansey, but he was tired. He was tired of squeezing homework in between his part-time jobs, of squeezing in sleep, squeezing in the hunt for Glendower. The jobs felt like so much wasted time: In five years, no one would care if he’d worked at a trailer factory. They’d only care if he’d graduated from Aglionby with perfect grades, or if he’d found Glendower, or if he was still alive. And Ronan didn’t have to worry about any of that.

When takers win, there’s usually someone else who loses. Research shows that people tend to envy successful takers and look for ways to knock them down a notch. In contrast, when givers like David Hornik win, people are rooting for them and supporting them, rather than gunning for them. Givers succeed in a way that creates a ripple effect, enhancing the success of people around them.

In all governments accordingly, even in monarchies, the highest offices are generally possessed, and the whole detail of the administration conducted, by men who were educated in the middle and inferior ranks of life, who have been carried forward by their own industry and abilities, though loaded with the jealousy, and opposed by the resentment, of all those who were born their superiors, and to whom the great, after having regarded them first with contempt, and afterwards with envy, are at last contented to truckle with the same abject meanness with which they desire that the rest of mankind should behave to themselves.

Honoring the value of competence and steadfastness requires a generosity of spirit and a curbing of the passion for envy, traits that few people value and fewer still cultivate and acquire. Not until there is more of Smith and less of Hobbes in the human heart, will the majority of people prefer peaceful and boring market relations to the violent and exciting relations between coercer and coerced, predator and victim

It was a long-held, multiheaded sensation formed from judgment, experience, and envy, and she didn’t care for it. It wasn’t that she necessarily thought that her negative opinions on raven boys were wrong. It was just that knowing Gansey, Adam, Ronan, and Noah complicated what she did with those opinions. It had been a lot more straightforward when she’d just assumed that she could despise them all from the thin air of the moral high ground.

God is a creative force, Lestat. And so are we. He told Adam, 'Increase and multiply.' That's what the first organic cells did, Lestat, increased and multiplied. Not merely changed shape but replicated themselves. God is a creative force. He made the whole universe out of Himself through cell division. That's why the devils are so full of envy-the bad angels, I mean. They are [i]not[/i] creative creatures; they have no bodies, no cells, they're spirit. And I suspect it wasn't envy so much as a form of suspicion-that God was making a mistake in making another engine of creativity in Adam, so like Himself. I mean the angels probably felt the physical universe was bad enough, with all the replicating cells, but thinking, talking beings who could increase and multiply? They were probably outraged by the whole experiment. That was their sin." "So you're saying God isn't pure spirit." "That's right. God has a body. Always did. The secret of cell-dividing life lies within God. And all living cells have a tiny part of God's spirit in them, Lestat, that's the missing piece as to what makes life happen in the first place, what separates it from nonlife. It's exactly like your vampiric genesis. You told us that the spirit of Amel-the evil entity-infused the bodies of all the vampires...Well, men share in the spirit of God in the same way.

An envy of that one consummate part Swept me, who mock. Whether I laugh or weep, Some inner silences are at my heart.

Services rendered to a country in a diplomatic line can be known only to a few – if they are important and they become conspicuous they rather excite envy than gratitude.

I found myself thinking that she could not have been more than twenty-two or so and wondering whether I looked old to her, and then I found myself envying the two young men who escorted her. A feeling almost of despair came over me. I felt a devastating sense of loss for something which I had never had, and it didn't occur to me that that something was a thing which no one ever possesses for the simple reason that it is something which is created in being seen and which exists only for the spectator without whom it could never become an object to tantalize. I was tired and distraught and it did not strike me then that her escorts were even farther than I from the thing for which I felt an acute sense of loss, infinitely farther from it, because it did not exist for them - their laughter, the swing of her hips, the ribbon, their familiarity, all that. And even if she were the mistress of one of them, I had created the thing for which I felt the sense of loss and it was not anyone else's to be enjoyed.

The unexamined life is surely worth living, but is the unloved life worth examining? It seems a strange question until one realizes how much of our so-called mental life is about the lives we are not living, the lives we are missing out on, the lives we could be leading but for some reason are not. What we fantasize about, what we long for, are the experiences, the things and the people that are absent. It is the absence of what we need that makes us think, that makes us cross and sad. We have to be aware of what is missing in our lives - even if this often obscures both what we already have and what is actually available - because we can survive only if our appetites more or less work for us. Indeed, we have to survive our appetites by making people cooperate with our wanting. We pressurize the world to be there for our benefit. And yet we quickly notice as children - it is, perhaps, the first thing we do notice - that our needs, like our wishes, are always potentially unmet. Because we are always shadowed by the possibility of not getting what we want, we lean, at best, to ironize our wishes - that is, to call our wants wishes: a wish is only a wish until, as we say, it comes true - and, at worst, to hate our needs. But we also learn to live somewhere between the lives we have and the lives we would like.(…) There is always what will turn out to be the life we led, and the life that accompanied it, the parallel life (or lives) that never actually happened, that we lived in our minds, the wished-for life (or lives): the risks untaken and the opportunities avoided or unprovided. We refer to them as our unloved lives because somewhere we believe that they were open to us; but for some reason - and we might spend a great deal of our lived lives trying to find and give the reason - they were not possible. And what was not possible all too easily becomes the story of our lives. Indeed, our lived lives might become a protracted mourning for, or an endless tantrum about, the lives we were unable to live. But the exemptions we suffer, whether forced or chosen, make us who we are. As we know more now than ever before about the kinds of lives it is possible to live - and affluence has allowed more people than ever before to think of their lives in terms of choices and options - we are always haunted by the myth of our potential, of what we might have it in ourselves to be or do. So when we are not thinking, like the character in Randall Jarrell's poem, that "The ways we miss our lives is life", we are grieving or regretting or resenting our failure to be ourselves as we imagine we could be. We share our lives with the people we have failed to be. We discover these unloved lives most obviously in our envy of other people, and in the conscious 9and unconscious) demands we make on our children to become something that was beyond us. And, of course, in our daily frustrations. Our lives become an elegy to needs unmet and desires sacrificed, to possibilities refused, to roads not taken. The myth of our potential can make of our lives a perpetual falling-short, a continual and continuing loss, a sustained and sometimes sustaining rage; though at its best it lures us into the future, but without letting us wonder why such lures are required (we become promising through the promises made to us). The myth of potential makes mourning and complaining feel like the realest things we eve do; and makes of our frustration a secret life of grudges. Even if we set aside the inevitable questions - How would we know if we had realized our potential? If we don't have potential what do we have? - we can't imagine our lives without the unloved lives they contain. We have an abiding sense, however obscure and obscured, that the lives we do lead are informed by the lives that escape us. That our lives are defined by loss, but loss of what might have been; loss, that is, of things never experienced.

Sensational new breakthrough in Improbability Physics. As soon as the ship’s drive reaches Infinite Improbability it passes through every point in the Universe. Be the envy of other major governments.’ Wow, this is big league stuff.” Ford hunted excitedly through the technical specs of the ship, occasionally gasping with astonishment at what he read— clearly Galactic astrotechnology had moved ahead during the years of his exile.

liberty must at all hazards be supported. We have a right to it, derived from our Maker. But if we have not, our fathers have earned and bought it for us at the expense of their ease, their estates, their pleasure, and their blood. And liberty cannot be preserved without a general knowledge among the people who have a right from the frame of their nature to knowledge, as their great Creator who does nothing in vain, has given them understandings and a desire to know. But besides this they have a right, an indisputable, unalienable, indefeasible divine right to the most dreaded and envied kind of knowledge, I mean of the characters and conduct of their rulers. He

If there is no list of names in eternity, we are burdened with making our own personal name day after day. Either we are made by another or we must be self-made. Then it is every man for himself, dog eat dog, as we vie with one another for a zero-sum dignity and importance. If you have it, then I don’t, or I will use you for my measuring stick. In either case, I am lost in comparison, envy, competition, and codependency. Spiritually: if you have it, I do too, and if I have it, you do too. Authentic spirituality is an experience of abundance and mutual flourishing instead of scarcity. Material gifts and ego gifts decrease with usage, whereas spiritual gifts actually increase with each use, in ourselves and in those around us.

Is it weird to envy him for that, for witnessing something I would never want to see with my own eyes? I have all this history with you, Theo, but he has pieces of your puzzle that would destroy me if I ever had to put them together, and yet I still want them.

Liberty cannot be preserved without a general knowledge among the people, who have a right, from the frame of their nature, to knowledge, as their great Creator, who does nothing in vain, has given them understandings, and a desire to know; but besides this, they have a right, an indisputable, unalienable, indefeasible, divine right to that most dreaded and envied kind of knowledge; I mean, of the characters and conduct of their rulers. —JOHN ADAMS, 1765, DISSERTATION ON THE CANON AND FEUDAL LAW

Greenery Juniper, Oracle Oak and Hop Tree, California Buckeye, and Elderberry. Pacific Dogwood and the pale green Eucalyptus, Quaking Aspen and Flannelbush. raw, sprouting, lush green love green with envy green with youth green with early spring olive, emerald, avocado, greenlight ready, set, GO! greenhouse, greenbelts, ocean kelp, cucumber, lizard, lime and forest green, spruce, teal, and putting green. green-eyed, verdant, grassy, immature green and leafy green half-formed tender, pleasant, alluring temperate freshly sawed vigorous not ripe yet promising greenbriar, greenbug, green dragon greenshanks running along the ocean's edge greenlings swimming greenlets singing greengage plums green thumbs greenhorns and greenflies- how on earth amid sage swells kelly hillsides and swirls of firs did I ever find that green of hers? holly, drake, and brewster green, pistachio, shamrock, serpentine terre verde, Brunswick, tourmaline, lotus, jade, and spinach green: start to finish lowlands to highs no field, no forest, no leaf, no blade can catch the light or trap the shade; no earthly tones will ever rise to match the green enchantment of her eyes.

[On] a accoutumé les peuples à croire que leur intérêt consistait à ruiner tous leurs voisins ; chaque nation en est venue à jeter un oeil d'envie sur la prospérité de toutes les nations avec lesquelles elle commerce, et à regarder tout ce qu'elles gagnent comme une perte pour elle. Le commerce, qui naturellement devait être, pour les nations comme pour les individus, une lien de concorde et d'amitié, est devenu la source la plus féconde des haines et des querelles. Pendant ce siècle et le précédent, l'ambition capricieuse des rois et des ministres n'a pas été plus fatale au repos de l'Europe, que la sotte jalousie des marchands et des manufacturiers. L'humeur injuste et violente de ceux qui gouvernent les hommes est un mal d'ancienne date, pour lequel j'ai bien peur que la nature des choses humaines ne comporte pas de remède ; mais quant à cet esprit de monopole, à cette rapacité basse et envieuse des marchands et des manufacturiers, qui ne sont, ni les uns ni les autres, chargés de gouverner les hommes, et qui ne sont nullement faits pour en être chargés, s'il n'y a peut-être pas moyen de corriger ce vice, au moins est-il bien facile d'empêcher qu'il ne puisse troubler la tranquillité de personne, si ce n'est de ceux qui en sont possédés.

Yeah, Jules!" Chelsea said in a voice thick with envy. "Go away, you're making the rest of us look bad." She winked at Jule's date wickedly. "I bet you just want to eat her up, don't ya?" He stared at Chelsea with bewilderment and glanced back at Jules for help. "Just ignore her," Jules explained over the noise from the sound system. "She doesn't get out much." Chelsea tried to look hurt by Jule's words, but she couldn't quite pull it off. "I'm just sayin', Jules, he'd better watch his back tonight, or I might be trying to take you away from him." Chelsea loved to play the potentially bi-curious card, even though everyone knew she liked boys far too much to go to bat for the other team. "Gross!" cried Claire, who wasn't pretending at all. Claire hated it when the conversation deviated too far off her straight and narrow path. The operative word being straight. "Don't worry, Claire-bear," Chelsea soothed condescendingly. "I'm not going to hook up with Jules." She wrapped her arm around Claire's waist and then said suggestively in he ear, "I'm much more likely to make a move on you." "Eww!" Claire shrieked, shoving Chelsea away. "Get away from me!" "Leave her alone, Chels," Jules interrupted. "Or you're gonna make her start her 'It's Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve' speech. And sorry, Claire, but none of us really want to hear that." Jay pulled Violet close to him as they listened to the familiar, playful bantering. He slid his arm around her waist from behind, and let his lips gently tease her earlobe while no one was paying attention to the two of them. Violet wanted to turn around right there, in his arms, and forget this whole dance thing altogether. "Hey!" Chelsea's voice interrupted them, and Violet jumped a little, realizing that everyone was staring at them. "Did you hear me?" Violet leaned forward on her crutches and away from Jay, still feeling bemused by the close and intimate contact. "What?" she asked, trying to focus on what had been said. "I said, 'I gotta pee.' Let's go to the bathroom," Chelsea repeated as if Violet were some sort of imbecile, incapable of understanding normal human speech. "Keep it up, Chels, and none of us is gonna want to hook up with you tonight," Violet promised jokingly. Chelsea grinned at Violet. "I like the way you think, Violet Ambrose. Maybe you'll be the lucky girl I choose.' And then she turned to Jay. "Don't worry, I've got her from here," Chelsea announced. Jules and Claire followed. Violet laughed and glanced back at him. "I'll only be a few." Jay gave her a skeptical look that no one else would have even noticed, as he assessed the three girls who would be escorting Violet. And then he finally nodded. "Okay, I'm gonna show these guys my car." He was beaming again. "I'll be right outside, but I won't be long." Violet did her best to keep up with the trio ahead of her, but it was hard on one high heel and two crutches. Finally she yelled at them exasperatedly, "If you guys don't wait, I'm not going!" They all three stopped and turned around. Chelsea tapped her lovely silver shoe impatiently. "Hurry up, Violet, or I swear I'll take you off my list.

The Sandwich Maker would pass what he had made to his assistant who would then add a few slices of newcumber and fladish and a touch of splagberry sauce, and then apply the topmost layer of bread and cut the sandwich with a fourth and altogether plainer knife. It was not that these were not also skilful operations, but they were lesser skills to be performed by a dedicated apprentice who would one day, when the Sandwich Maker finally laid down his tools, take over from him. It was an exalted position and that apprentice, Drimple, was the envy of his fellows. There were those in the village who were happy chopping wood, those who were content carrying water, but to be the Sandwich Maker was very heaven. And so the Sandwich Maker sang as he worked. He was using the last of the year’s salted meat. It was a little past its best now, but still the rich savour of Perfectly Normal Beast meat was something unsurpassed in any of the Sandwich Maker’s previous experience. Next week it was anticipated that the Perfectly Normal Beasts would appear again for their regular migration, whereupon the whole village would once again be plunged into frenetic action: hunting the Beasts, killing perhaps six, maybe even seven dozen of the thousands that thundered past. Then the Beasts must be rapidly butchered and cleaned, with most of the meat salted to keep it through the winter months until the return migration in the spring, which would replenish their supplies. The very best of the meat would be roasted straight away for the feast that marked the Autumn Passage. The celebrations would last for three days of sheer exuberance, dancing and stories that Old Thrashbarg would tell of how the hunt had gone, stories that he would have been busy sitting making up in his hut while the rest of the village was out doing the actual hunting. And then the very, very best of the meat would be saved from the feast and delivered cold to the Sandwich Maker. And the Sandwich Maker would exercise on it the skills that he had brought to them from the gods, and make the exquisite Sandwiches of the Third Season, of which the whole village would partake before beginning, the next day, to prepare themselves for the rigours of the coming winter. Today he was just making ordinary sandwiches, if such delicacies, so lovingly crafted, could ever be called ordinary. Today his assistant was away so the Sandwich Maker was applying his own garnish, which he was happy to do. He was happy with just about everything in fact.

Driscoll preached a sermon called “Sex: A Study of the Good Bits of Song of Solomon,” which he followed up with a sermon series and an e-book, Porn-again Christian (2008). For Driscoll, the “good bits” amounted to a veritable sex manual. Translating from the Hebrew, he discovered that the woman in the passage was asking for manual stimulation of her clitoris. He assured women that if they thought they were “being dirty,” chances are their husbands were pretty happy. He issued the pronouncement that “all men are breast men. . . . It’s biblical,” as was a wife performing oral sex on her husband. Hearing an “Amen” from the men in his audience, he urged the ladies present to serve their husbands, to “love them well,” with oral sex. He advised one woman to go home and perform oral sex on her husband in Jesus’ name to get him to come to church. Handing out religious tracts was one thing, but there was a better way to bring about Christian revival. 13 Driscoll reveled in his ability to shock people, but it was a series of anonymous blog posts on his church’s online discussion board that laid bare the extent of his misogyny. In 2006, inspired by Braveheart, Driscoll adopted the pseudonym “William Wallace II” to express his unfiltered views. “I love to fight. It’s good to fight. Fighting is what we used to do before we all became pussified,” before America became a “pussified nation.” In that vein, he offered a scathing critique of the earlier iteration of the evangelical men’s movement, of the “pussified James Dobson knock-off crying Promise Keeping homoerotic worship . . .” where men hugged and cried “like damn junior high girls watching Dawson’s Creek.” Real men should steer clear. 14 For Driscoll, the problem went all the way back to the biblical Adam, a man who plunged humanity headlong into “hell/ feminism” by listening to his wife, “who thought Satan was a good theologian.” Failing to exercise “his delegated authority as king of the planet,” Adam was cursed, and “every man since has been pussified.” The result was a nation of men raised “by bitter penis envying burned feministed single mothers who make sure that Johnny grows up to be a very nice woman who sits down to pee.” Women served certain purposes, and not others. In one of his more infamous missives, Driscoll talked of God creating women to serve as penis “homes” for lonely penises. When a woman posted on the church’s discussion board, his response was swift: “I . . . do not answer to women. So, your questions will be ignored.” 15

Every bit of evidence would suggest that the will to be moving is as old as mankind. Take the people in the Old Testament. They were always on the move. First, it's Adam and Eve moving out of Eden. Then it's Cain condemned to be a restless wanderer, Noah drifting on the waters of the Flood, and Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt toward the Promised Land. Some of these figures were out of the Lord's favor and some of them were in it, but all of them were on the move. And as far as the New Testament goes, Our Lord Jesus Christ was what they call a peripatetic--someone who's always going from place to place--whether on foot, on the back of a donkey, or on the wings of angels. But the proof of the will to move is hardly limited to the pages of the Good Book. Any child of ten can tell you that getting-up-and-going is topic number one in the record of man's endeavors. Take that big red book that Billy is always lugging around. It's got twenty-six stories in it that have come down through the ages and almost every one of them is about some man going somewhere. Napoleon heading off on one of his conquests, or King Arthur in search of the Holy Grail. Some of the men in the book are figures from history and some from fancy, but whether real or imagined, almost every one of them is on his way to someplace different from where he started. So, if the will to move is as old as mankind and every child can tell you so, what happens to a man like my father? What switch is flicked in the hallway of his mind that takes the God-given will for motion and transforms it into the will for staying put? It isn't due to a loss of vigor. For the transformation doesn't come when men like my father are growing old and infirm. It comes when they are hale, hearty, and at the peak of their vitality. If you asked them what brought about the change, they will cloak it in the language of virtue. They will tell you that the American Dream is to settle down, raise a family, and make an honest living. They'll speak with pride of their ties to the community through the church and the Rotary and the chamber of commerce, and all other manner of stay-puttery. But maybe, I was thinking as I was driving over the Hudson River, just maybe the will to stay put stems not from a man's virtues but from his vices. After all, aren't gluttony, sloth, and greed all about staying put? Don't they amount to sitting deep in a chair where you can eat more, idle more, and want more? In a way, pride and envy are about staying put too. For just as pride is founded on what you've built up around you, envy is founded on what your neighbor has built across the street. A man's home may be his castle, but the moat, it seems to me, is just as good at keeping people in as it is at keeping people out.

Because the Constitution made no mention of a cabinet, Washington had to invent it. At first, this executive council consisted of just three men: Hamilton as secretary of the treasury, Jefferson as secretary of state, and Henry Knox as secretary of war. The first attorney general, thirty-six-year-old Edmund Randolph of Virginia, had no department and received an annual retainer of $1,500 for an essentially consultative role. Viewed as the government’s legal adviser, the tall, handsome Randolph was expected to retain private clients to supplement his modest salary. Vice President John Adams was largely excluded from the administration’s decision-making apparatus, a demotion in power that could only have sharpened his envy of young Hamilton.

I was green with envy, Maude. Do you take pleasure in tormenting the person who’s given you his heart wholeheartedly ever since the day we first met?” “I

The story of Elijah in I Kings 19 is illustrative of the destructiveness of self-pity. Elijah was bold as long as his mind was centered on God, but not when he began to focus his attention upon himself (cf. I Kings 19:4, 10, 14). Because he refused to turn from this self-orientation, his prophetic ministry was taken away and given to Elisha. Self-pity, envy, and brooding can lead to other serious results, as David warns (Psalm 37:8). The case of Amnon shows how through such brooding “he made himself ill” (II Samuel 13:2-4). This continual brooding led, at length, to disastrous consequences.

Pride,” he said. I frowned at them. “Come again.” “My name is Pride,” he said. His voice was a touch apologetic as if he weren’t too happy with it, either. I wondered if Mephistopheles was so adamant about his name because only a bold front would make it work at all. I wanted to ask if their mother hadn’t liked them, but resisted. I turned to Micah. I gave him a look that I hoped said clearly, These are the best of the five? “One of the other gold tigers is named Envy,” Micah said, face as empty as he could make it.

C'est en survivant que j'ai comprs qu'il valait mieux être en vie en ayant envie d'être mort, que de mourir en ayant envie de vivre pour toujours

2. Corah, a Hebrew of principal account, both by his family and by his wealth, one that was also able to speak well, and one that could easily persuade the people by his speeches, saw that Moses was in an exceeding great dignity, and was at it, and envied him on that account, (he of the same tribe with Moses, and of kin to him,) was particularly grieved, because he thought he better deserved that honorable post on account of great riches, and not inferior to him in his birth. So he raised a clamor against him among the Levites, who were of the same tribe, and among his kindred, saying, "That it was a very sad thing that they should overlook Moses, while he hunted after and paved the way to glory for himself, and by ill arts should obtain it, under the pretense of God's command, while, contrary to laws, he had given the priesthood to Aaron, the common suffrage of the multitude, but by his own vote, as bestowing dignities in a way on whom he pleased.

rallumant une nouvelle clope. Tu ne m’as pas toujours respecté pourtant… — Mais non… mais… pour… pourquoi… vous… tu… mais qu’est-ce que je t’ai fait, bon sang ! Vouvoiement, tutoiement, sacré dilemme dans son crâne de piaf. C’est au moins la cinquième fois qu’il me pose la question et il ne sait toujours pas comment s’y prendre. Finalement, ça m’amuse de le voir jouer les équilibristes. Moi, je n’hésite pas un seul instant. Tutoiement. C’est bon, ça fait un an que je lui balance du « vous » à toutes les sauces, que je suis à ses petits soins, que dis-je, que je m’agenouille devant lui comme un serf devant son suzerain. Alors maintenant, on arrête la comédie, c’est fini. On joue d’égal à égal. Si nous avions été deux personnes raisonnables, nous nous serions attablés autour de son bureau, nous aurions discuté de nos différends et peut-être, je dis bien peut-être, serions-nous arrivés à un accord. Mais là, au vu des circonstances et de tout ce qui nous sépare, il n’y a plus de discussion possible. J’ai choisi mon camp. Je serai le dominant et lui le dominé. Les rôles sont donc changés. — Qu’est-ce que tu m’as fait ? m’indigné-je en recrachant la fumée de ma tige sur son visage. Non, mais tu te fous de moi ? Ça fait un an que tu me pourris la vie ! Douze mois consécutifs, bordel de merde ! — Je… je ne vous ai pas… je ne t’ai pas pourri la vie ! Jamais ! Vous… tu… tu sais que tu vas au-devant de graves ennuis ? Adam a tout entendu et là, il est parti donner l’alerte. Les forces d’intervention vont arriver ici d’une minute à l’autre ! Tu ne sais pas dans quel pétrin tu t’es fourré, mon pauvre ami. Alors le mieux pour toi, c’est que tu me détaches de ce fauteuil et que l’on oublie rapidement cette histoire ! La sonnerie du téléphone stoppe subitement ses « conseils avisés ». J’hésite un instant. Je n'ai pas forcément envie de décrocher et à vrai dire, j'ai une vague idée de la personne qui se trouve derrière le combiné, mais comme je suis de nature curieuse, je décide tout de même d'en savoir un peu plus. Deux secondes après avoir répondu « allô », j’arrache violemment le fil qui relie le téléphone à la prise murale et envoie valdinguer l’appareil à l’autre bout de la pièce. Fin de la discussion. — C’est bien ce que je pensais… un négociateur. — Tu aurais dû écouter ce qu’il avait à te dire, reprend l’autre empaffé en me gratifiant d’un sourire qui pue la haine. Maintenant, c’est sûr que tu vas devoir te coltiner le RAID. Et crois-moi, ça va te coûter cher ! Ils sont sans pitié avec les preneurs d’otage… Non vraiment, Adam a fait du bon boulot. Je suis fier de… Un mollard gros comme une balle de 22 Long Rifle fuse alors sur son visage. Façon de lui signifier qu’il peut d’ores et déjà la mettre en sourdine. Adam, c’est le veilleur de nuit de la tour. Je ne le connais pas bien. La seule chose que je peux dire sur lui, c’est que je le croise plus souvent que ma femme et mon fils… À mon grand désarroi. Je lui rétorque quand bien même : — Ces graves ennuis comme tu dis si bien, je ne les ai eus qu’avec toi ! Alors tu sais, les flics peuvent descendre en rappel par les fenêtres ou balancer des lance-roquettes sur cette tour de merde, ce ne sera que de la roupie de sansonnet à côté de ce que j’ai subi ! Tiens, prends ça ! Clac ! Cette baffe est douloureuse. Je le vois à sa grimace. C’est vrai que je ne l’ai pas raté. Ça fait deux heures que je suis sur lui à viser sa joue rougie par le feu de mes allers-retours, alors forcément, à un moment donné on attrape le coup de main. Je craque mes phalanges pour lui faire comprendre

The people will not bear a contemptuous look or disrespectful word; nay, if the style of your homage, flattery, and adoration, is not as hyperbolical as the popular enthusiasm dictates, it is construed into disaffection; the popular cry of envy, jealousy, suspicious temper, vanity, arrogance, pride, ambition, impatience of a superior, is set up against a man, and the rage and fury of an ungoverned rabble, stimulated underhand by the demagogic despots, breaks out into every kind of insult, obloquy, and outrage, often ending in murders and massacres, like those of the De Witts, more horrible than any that the annals of despotism can produce.

Some people envied Ronan’s money. Adam envied his time. To be as rich as Ronan was to be able to go to school and do nothing else, to have luxurious swaths of time in which to study and write papers and sleep. Adam wouldn’t admit it to anyone, least of all Gansey, but he was tired. He was tired of squeezing homework in between his part-time jobs, of squeezing in sleep, squeezing in the hunt for Glendower. The jobs felt like so much wasted time: In five years, no one would care if he’d worked at a trailer factory. They’d only care if he’d graduated from Aglionby with perfect grades, or if he’d found Glendower, or if he was still alive. And Ronan didn’t have to worry about any of that.

WENDELL P. BLOYD They first charged me with disorderly conduct, There being no statute on blasphemy. Later they locked me up as insane Where I was beaten to death by a Catholic guard. My offense was this: I said God lied to Adam, and destined him To lead the life of a fool, Ignorant that there is evil in the world as well as good. And when Adam outwitted God by eating the apple And saw through the lie, God drove him out of Eden to keep him from taking The fruit of immortal life. For Christ's sake, you sensible people, Here's what God Himself says about it in the book of Genesis: "And the Lord God said, behold the man Is become as one of us" (a little envy, you see), "To know good and evil" (The all-is-good lie exposed): "And now lest he put forth his hand and take Also of the tree of life and eat, and live forever: Therefore the Lord God sent Him forth from the garden of Eden." (The reason I believe God crucified His Own Son To get out of the wretched tangle is, because it sounds just like Him.)

Shetani alikuwa malaika aliyeumbwa na Mungu lakini baadaye akamwonea Mungu wivu, wivu wa madaraka, hivyo Mungu akamtupa duniani kwa sababu ya kupingana na utawala wake mtakatifu. Duniani Shetani akamtumia nyoka kama mdakale kumdanganya Hawa. Hawa na Adamu wakamsikiliza Shetani badala ya kumsikiliza Mungu, nao wakalaaniwa. Shetani akajidai kuwa alikuwa na uwezo wa kufanya uzao wote wa Adamu na Hawa uwe mbali na Mungu, hivyo Mungu akampa muda wa kujaribu na kuthibitisha madai yake, lakini Shetani mpaka leo bado hajafanikiwa. Wakiitawala dunia leo kwa udanganyifu wa hali ya juu, pamoja naye, ni baadhi ya malaika ambao Shetani alifanikiwa kuwalaghai huko mbinguni. Mungu akawalaani pia na kuwatupa huku duniani, ambako Shetani alipapenda zaidi.

Biologists sometimes get physics envy, because every time we find out one of our big rules – universal genetics, evolution by natural selection – things look more complex within them as soon as we begin to look.

Carter!” I gasped, “I swear to God if you went UA …” I knew what the punishment was for leaving base without authorization, and if Carter did … well let’s just say it wouldn’t be good. He laughed, “No, no. I didn’t. Everyone knows I’m here. I requested for a transfer to Camp Pendleton when you decided to move to San Diego, it got accepted right after you left. I got here on Monday.” “Wait, you moved here because I was moving here?” “Of course.” “Did Sir make you do that?” “Not at all. I just couldn’t let you go.” “Oh shit.” Bree muttered. Brandon sat up straighter, I didn’t have to look up to know he was glaring and sizing up Carter. This could get bad, I was about to say something when Carter spoke up again. “I mean I can’t let my little sister go across the country alone, right?” I smiled at Carter and felt Brandon relax from behind me. Sean, one of the guys that came with Carter, looked at the other two guys then back to Carter with a confused look and started to speak, but when he looked back to me and Brandon, he shut his mouth. “So … I’m sorry what was your name again? Brady?” I glared at Carter but remained quiet. I knew he could tell me everyone’s name that he’d just met. I’d always envied that he could remember anything as long as he read or heard it once. Brandon’s arm tensed around my waist, “Brandon.” “Right, my bad. So how did you meet my girl?” “Through school. I live with Chase, Bree’s his sister and Harper’s roommate.” Carter’s head tilted back a bit, his eyes lit up like he was just told valuable information, “Chase huh? Good for you two, I don’t judge.” Brandon snorted and trailed his other hand down my arm to intertwine our fingers, “Hear that Chase? Apparently we’re together.” “Ah. It all finally makes sense. Why you’re always at my house and such. Guess I should take you on a date or something.” Chase smirked but kept his glare on Carter. I kicked Carter’s leg and gave him a be nice look. He

When takers win, there’s usually someone else who loses. Research shows that people tend to envy successful takers and look for ways to knock them down a notch.

That view was, first, that man is an individual, an individual born with a natural sociability (an updated version of Aristotle’s zoon politikon) but also a desire to protect his own natural rights and his own self-interest. “It is love of self,” Voltaire would write, “that encourages love of others.” That self-interest was derived from nature, “which warns us to respect [the self-interest] of others.”6 This was one reason the Enlightenment, like Aristotle, so strongly opposed the Republic’s formula for communism. The abolition of private property was not only contrary to natural right, it would also ensure that the bonds that connected men to each other would be founded not on mutual respect and friendship, but on envy or even hate. “Nothing can be conceived more destructive of human happiness, more infallibly contrived to transform men and women into Brutes, Yahoos, or Daemons,” John Adams wrote, than community of property.

Sabrina surely had one dead ex-boyfriend on her record. But did Martina have a deceased ex-boyfriend in her past too? Biggie’s words swirled in my head, mixing with the reality I faced: ’Sabrina reminding me of Lil Cease with her crocodile teeth, the warpath we rode apart and together, our laughter, our tears—my tears, their laughter—the player haters, the cocaine-snorting bitches, the cats with no dough, try to play me at my show, pull up and crack doors, short-change bitches with 5 to 20 euro notes not enough to powder their beak and nose. They still tickle me, Sabrina and them midgets cripple me, make me as hard as Martina's nipples be, I'm sour like a pickle be. You disobey the rules. Now the year’s new and I want my spot back; fake two, all the planes I flew, all the bitches I went through, mothersnuggers mad, cause I’m blue, bitches envy us, too many bitches in my club guard your dogs before I stick you for your re-up, maniacs put my name in raps, living by hugs from fake friends, your whole life you live sneaky, you burn when you creep me, you slipping try to break me, living by my love, hating me, they like to hustle backward, Acid rain, Cadillac Fleetwood look what you made me do, you made me and my girl Marine blue make you, open the safe too’ Della Reese had been on my mind since a while as if she wanted to tell me something a wisdom she wanted to share with me. The lyrics and the words the bad people played mindgames with me kept mixing up in my head. ’Maniacs put my name in raps; the club is dead without me they can hustle only backwards with all the beef against me. Blunt wraps and Dutchies, all the smoking accessories; they can't touch me. One third is on me. Martina's butt a public touchy-touchy. My enemies holding their cats shaky. Sabrina is dead or alive, her ghost is under me.

He stared at Phil. ‘But it bothers you. It pisses you off that I’m not crippled with debt or saddled with some moody bitch. Instead, you P.R. your lives and act like I’m supposed to envy you. Who would want it, boys? Look how bloody old you look. Both of you. Fucking fat and grey and you’re not even forty yet. Is this what a family does? And marriage? Am I supposed to aspire to it? Envy it? And if I don’t, I should be excluded? Why? I’ll tell you why, because I remind you of everything you can’t do. Yes, can’t do. Because you are not allowed to.

Not least, it was an expression of psychologically driven resentment towards commonly admired objects of beauty, as the attackers themselves admitted. As much of the aggression can be ascribed to animosity towards uneven distribution of beauty and grace as it can be towards unequal distribution of rights. In statements of attackers and their supporters, there is palpable envy towards images of ageless perfection.

The simulated perfection that surrounds us is mediated by screens. On every screen we look at it, perfection stares out at us. Screens are everywhere. We are always staring at screens. Cinema screens, TV screens, iPhone screens, computer screens… Screens are omnipresent in our lives. And they are the delivery mechanisms of perfect images of perfect lives. Celebrities, the nobility and the super rich are those with the perfect lives we so envy. They rule the screens.

It's easy to know if you have an Apollo case. The cops talk in whispers. They sip their coffee as if it tastes of the celebrity blood they've just wiped off their shoes. Carloads of FBI Special Agents point at maps and charts, pretending to know what they're talking about. But when the whole media circus arrives and pitches its tents all round the corpses, you know the ratings are going to the moon. That's why they're Apollos. Everyone will tune in. They all want to know. Take a seat. Apollo cases don't happen to ordinary Joes like you and me. They're reserved for the celebrities we've envied all our lives until their bloodstained bodies stare at us from the front pages of our newspapers. Then we're glad we're different from them.

Maude couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy towards this unnamed, supernatural creature who had bewitched Matt long enough to make him wait for her, for hours no less, in a museum.

Let’s use the word care (echoing the Latin word caritas for “charity”) to name Christ’s way of handling time. Let’s use it to name his way of handling sickness and loss and sin and death. Care, let’s say, is a name for that pure love of Christ (cf. 1 Corinthians 13:4–8). Care suffers long, is kind, envies not, and is not puffed up. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. It makes justice possible. It never fails. Though everything else passes away, care continues. And it continues because care is Christ’s response to the world’s continual passing away.

Envy has alienated wives from their husbands, and changed that saying of our father Adam, “This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh.

Adams noted, possessed as much public spirit as any people in the modern world. Nevertheless, he had seen all through his life “Such Selfishness and Littleness even in New England” that the cause seemed doubtful, not for lack of power or wisdom, but for lack of virtue. The Revolution had unleashed a bundle of passions—”Hope, Fear, Joy, Sorrow, Love, Hatred, Malice, Envy, Revenge, Jealousy, Ambition, Avarice, Resentment, Gratitude,