Even if the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, keep to your own side; it's where you belong. There you can plant your own grass and tend to it.

Be careful what you wish for. It may turn out that making the wish was the only good part.

I couldn’t think of anyone I’d ever felt sorry for. There were plenty of kids I was envious of. There were others I achingly admired, but that might simply be another form of jealousy. Then there were those I feared, dreaded. And the worst of them, the man who shamed me. I could see my father’s angry features looming over my mother. I could clearly picture her beside him in his truck, cowering against the door while he belittled and assaulted her. I guess I did know someone I felt sorry for.

Authors always carry a means for scribbling and an excuse for pausing, often inopportunely, to record those fleeting sparks of creative fancy that might otherwise vanish like a wisp in the wind if ignored.  Writing is a jealous and needy lover.

Why is it that people would sooner make you feel small in order to feel big by comparison when if they reached a little higher it would actually make them grow big in the effort?

It is hard not to envy.So dreadfully hard.Within my sight, within my reach, my senses are bathed in what I wish for, coveting the tiniest taste of what I know is not mine.Turn away.Do not be jealous.It is hard not to envy.

It's silly to think the left eye would envy the right or that one foot would be jealous of the other, and yet so often it is the case.