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There is a sort of jealousy which needs very little fire; it is hardly a passion, but a blight bred in the cloudy, damp despondency of uneasy egoism.
Source: Middlemarch, bk. 2, ch. 21 (1871 --72).
-- George Eliot, (Nov 22 1819-1880), English novelist; Mary Ann Evans was the foremost woman novelist of her time, e.g., Silas Marner, 1861.