A Quote by Washington Irving

Jealous people poison their own banquet and then eat it — © Washington Irving
Jealous people poison their own banquet and then eat it
Don't come giving me, who's old enough to die and too near blind to create anything any more anyhow, a great big banquet that you eat up in honor of your own stomachs as much as in honor of me- who's toothless and can't eat.
The lives of most people are small tight pallid and sad, more to be mourned than their deaths. We starve at the banquet: We cannot see that there is a banquet because seeing the banquet requires that we see also ourselves sitting there starving-seeing ourselves clearly, even for a moment, is shattering. We are not dead but asleep, dreaming of ourselves.
I wish people would call poisons poison. I don't mind people smoking marijuana, but they should admit it's a poison, and coffee's a poison, but the Americans lie so.
The cabbage surpasses all other vegetables. If, at a banquet, you wish to dine a lot and enjoy your dinner, then eat as much cabbage as you wish, seasoned with vinegar, before dinner, and likewise after dinner eat some half-dozen leaves. It will make you feel as if you had not eaten, and you can drink as much as you like.
Retaliation is counter-poison and poison breeds more poison. The nectar of Love alone can destroy the poison of hate.
I hate it when people say, "Oh, women are just jealous." I'm not jealous, but I do beat myself up about what I haven't accomplished in my own life yet - and when you meet a woman who has accomplished what you expect to achieve, and she's also dating your ex, of course it's hard!
But jealous souls will not be answered so, They are not ever jealous for the cause, But jealous for they're jealous. 'Tis a monster Begot upon itself, born on itself.
Don't be upset. Don't listen to me. I only meant that I am jealous of a dark, unconscious element, something irrational, unfathomable. I am jealous of your toilet articles, of the drops of sweat on your skin, of the germs in the air you breathe which could get into your blood and poison you. And I am jealous of Komarovsky, as if he were an infectious disease. Someday he will take you away, just as certainly as death will someday separate us. I know this must seem obscure and confused, but I can't say it more clearly. I love you madly, irrationally, infinitely.
Chinese people become jealous about status more easily. Foreigners are more inclined to look up to successful people. I don't understand why there is a difference. If two people start at the same point and then one person gets ahead, the other should work hard to catch up. But instead, they just curse. They are jealous.
The venom clamours of a jealous woman poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.
My idea is this, that when you only love a little you're naturally not jealous — or are only jealous also a little, so that it doesn't matter. But when you love in a deeper and intenser way, then you're in the very same proportion jealous; your jealousy has intensity and, no doubt, ferocity.
When I'm getting ready for a movie, let's just say my diet is "The Antisocial Diet." I don't go to restaurants. I don't eat what I really want to eat. I don't eat much. I eat small things frequently. Lots of protein and greens. And I don't eat with people, because there's a tendency to get social and then to overeat.
When I'm getting ready for a movie, let's just say my diet is 'The Antisocial Diet.' I don't go to restaurants. I don't eat what I really want to eat. I don't eat much. I eat small things frequently. Lots of protein and greens. And I don't eat with people, because there's a tendency to get social and then to overeat.
The pose of innocence is as mandatory as the ability to eat banquet food and endure the scourging of the press.
Soul is our appetite, driving us to eat from the banquet of life. People filled with the hunger of soul take food from every dish before them, whether it be sweet or bitter.
The greatest enemy of hunger for God is not poison but apple pie. It is not the banquet of the wicked that dulls our appetite for heaven, but endless nibbling at the table of the world. It is not the X-rated video, but the prime-time dribble of triviality we drink in every night.
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