Jealousy

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  Rianne said that she’d found out quite a bit about the arm and where it came from. “It belongs to someone named Dave,” she said . “I knew that,” Shandee snapped. “He went to a place called the House of Holes. There Dave had requested a larger thicker penis. Apparently you can do that. But at a price. The director, this woman named Lila, said to him: ‘Would you be willing to give your right arm for a larger penis?’ Dave said no at first, because his right arm was necessary for his work. But Lila said that it was only temporary—only till someone found the arm and took it back and stuck it on him. Dave said, ‘Oh, if it’s temporary, sure.’ So he underwent a voluntary amputation right near the elbow, and his arm had the self-contained life-support pack grafted on.” “You sure did find out a lot,” said Shandee. “I must say his touch is extremely sensitive,” Rianne went on. She threw herself back on the bed and laid the arm on her chest. Shandee watched the hand push aside the sides of Rianne’s shirt and find her breast again. “Hmm,” Shandee said. “I don’t know about this. I found him, not you.” She felt finger-snappings of jealousy. Rianne’s lips parted. “Oh my gosh, his fingers know what to do,” she said, flushing. The hand was gently rolling her nipple like a tender round pea. And then it surrounded her whole breast and shook it once. After that it turned and began crawling over her belly toward her pajama pants. “Are you just going to let that happen?” Shandee said, riveted. “Um, yes,” she said. “Could you dim the light?” Shandee turned off the overhead light and watched the arm undo the knot of Rianne’s pajama bottoms. It disappeared. Rianne went “Shooooo.” Shandee turned away. “He’s found it,” Rianne said, “and, boy, he’s got the touch of a master.” Then her voice changed and she said, “Oh my god, two fingers. Haw. Haw.” Shandee glanced at her. Rianne’s knees had fallen apart and her eyes were slitted closed. “He seems to want to make me come, oh god, oh shit.” Then: “Ham, ham, oo, oo, oo, oo, oo, oo, ham, ham, HAW!” She lay still and held up the arm. He made an O with his fingers, which glittered with her sex juices. “You want me to go with you?” Rianne said. “Okay, I’ll go. Bye, Shandee, I’m going!” With that, her face and body began to blur, and she swooshed into a long thin shape that went through the finger-O of Dave’s hand. She was gone. The hand lay on the bed. It began crawling toward Shandee.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  Dave’s arm scribbled something rapidly. “Sure, but—let me put on the lipstick for you,” he wrote. “Okay, you can try.” Shandee grasped the arm firmly and held him so that his hand was in front of her mouth. He touched all the way around her lips, feeling the exact shape, and then, with very fine almost vibrating movements, he applied the lipstick. It was extremely red, a color called Terranova. “Good job,” said Shandee. “You’re good. And this color is great.” Her lips looked really luscious. “Thank you, Dave’s arm.” He made a little nod with his hand and then, lifting the pen, reminded her that he needed to have some of the fish-food mash and to be relieved of his chemical wastes. She took him to the toilet and popped open a little vent on his cap. A tiny trickle of gray water dripped out. Then she fed him some fish-food gruel, and he seemed quite revived. He asked her to place him on the windowsill, because he had a solar panel for energy. She did, and then she went to the party and danced and had a wonderful time, but she came home early because she felt she had a new friend that she had to take care of. When she got back her roommate Rianne was there. Rianne’s lips were very red—she’d been sampling the new lipsticks, probably—and she was holding on to Dave’s arm. The hand end was in her shirt, obviously doing something tender with one of her breasts. Rianne hurriedly drew him out. There was a pad of paper with lots of hasty writing scrawled on it next to where she was lounging on her bed. “So, you’ve discovered my arm,” Shandee said, with an edge. Rianne nodded. “He has a lovely touch.” “That he does,” Shandee agreed. Rianne said that she’d found out quite a bit about the arm and where it came from. “It belongs to someone named Dave,” she said. “I knew that,” Shandee snapped. “He went to a place called the House of Holes. There Dave had requested a larger thicker penis. Apparently you can do that. But at a price. The director, this woman named Lila, said to him: ‘Would you be willing to give your right arm for a larger penis?’ Dave said no at first, because his right arm was necessary for his work. But Lila said that it was only temporary—only till someone found the arm and took it back and stuck it on him. Dave said, ‘Oh, if it’s temporary, sure.’ So he underwent a voluntary amputation right near the elbow, and his arm had the self-contained life-support pack grafted on.” “You sure did find out a lot,” said Shandee. “I must say his touch is extremely sensitive,” Rianne went on. She threw herself back on the bed and laid the arm on her chest. Shandee watched the hand push aside the sides of Rianne’s shirt and find her breast again.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  He lay back on the grass and looked up at the sky, smiling. Then he looked over at the girl in the polka-dot skirt. She was cutting bunches of white lilacs. “You sit out here on the grass in your underpants,” said Polly. “I’m going up to that house and investigate. We’ll meet in about an hour and a half.” “Sounds good,” Jeff said. Polly walked up the hill toward the house, fuming. A man answered the door. He said his name was Mischa, and he was quite handsome, although his ears were odd—the inner parts poked out farther than the rims, which gave him an air of studiousness. He took her to a waiting room, and then she met Lila, a cheerful busty woman who wore bifocals. “What do you want?” Lila asked. “I don’t know—a Cape house on a knoll and a husband?” said Polly. “Can’t help you.” “Then I don’t want anything,” said Polly. “You’re unhappy with your boyfriend because he’s acting like a shit.” “Yes, and he and I have different taste in plays.” “Do you still like men?” “Yes, I love men. I’ve always loved men.” Lila picked up the phone. “Mischa, our friend Polly needs to spend some time in the Hall of the Penises.” Mischa was there in a moment. He took Polly’s hand and led her to a very large room—a kind of dance studio with a refinished floor, hung all the way around with green curtains made of shot silk. One wall had enormous windows that overlooked the hills. There were two other women in the room. Polly nodded at them and they introduced themselves. One was Saucie, and one had a name like Donna. Polly said to Saucie, “What are those odd little bumps there in the curtains?” “They’re what you think they are,” said Saucie. Polly found a drape cord and pulled it to make some of the green fabric slide to one side. She saw many little toadlike things hanging out from holes in the wall at about crotch height. She said, “All those little brown toadlike things are penises?” “Yep,” said Saucie. “And balls.” “They go all around the room,” said Donna. “What are we supposed to do with them?” asked Polly. Saucie handed her a tasseled knee pillow. “I think we’re supposed to talk to them, or maybe even suck them off.” Donna whispered, “I think that one there is my husband.” Polly was surprised. “Is that good or bad?” “Not entirely sure,” said Donna. “And I’m guessing that one there is my ex-husband,” said Saucie. Then it occurred to Polly to wonder whether one of the penises was Jeff ’s. She toured the rows carefully to see if she could spot Jeff ’s organ hanging out among the crowd. But she couldn’t be sure. Which was all in all a relief.

• From The City of God

  384 Books That Matter: The City of God because everyone desires some of the same things, and each at war with her or himself because our desires are fickle, inconstant, and so also in conflict with each other. Furthermore, just as this earthly city has no true harmony or coherence, it has no true originality either. Just as sinning is a parody of a true action, this city’s entire structure is a parody of good order. It has no novelty, but simply reiterates its own claim to be free of divine sponsorship. But that very claim to rebellion is itself simply a jealous rivalry of God’s true founding, of God’s genuine city. Like an adolescent, the sinful city simultaneously tries to copy what it denies it has any ambition to be—namely, an adult. This is what it means to exist as a parody, to exist parasitically on the thing that you envy. As the singer Elvis Costello once put it, “There’s no such thing as an original sin.” While Augustine argues this directly throughout his book, he also demonstrates it structurally. For in Books 15–17, he seems to be able to talk about the city of God without talking about the city of this world. But now, in Book 18, it turns out that the earthly city can’t be talked about without continual repeated reference to the city of God it is trying to be and, of course, trying not to be. So in sum, Augustine says the earthly city’s day is already over. It goes on, but it lives entirely in the past. Its time is out of joint with a new eon that the Christian churches proclaim and pray to represent. It is not now; it is then. It is already dead; it simply doesn’t know it. Now, in contrast to the parodic incoherence of the pagan political actors and philosophers who sought their answers by human powers, the heavenly Jerusalem, even today, has the ambition—if not always the reality—of being coherent and harmonious. The harmony and unity of the city of God is visible in its universality and harmony; communicated by the prophetic conveyance of divine words, received gracefully by the community, and obeyed as true nourishment. Augustine knows this is a very idealized picture of the Christian

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  She noticed a little card taped next to the dryer’s controls. “HOH,” it said. “What’s ‘HOH’ stand for?” she asked Jeff. Jeff shrugged. “Hard of hearing? Water?” She said: “I’m not kidding, two seconds ago a girl with long straight hair climbed into this dryer.” “I really don’t see how she could have,” he said. He sat back down and began reading his free paper again. Polly shook her head in exasperation and climbed into the dryer. It was quite hot, but she could breathe okay. She pushed against the back, and she thought she felt it move. She grabbed a T-shirt from the heap of clothes, so that she wouldn’t burn her hand, and she pushed as hard as she could against the back. It made a sound like a tight rusty spring and swung open. She climbed through and fell out on some grass near a lilac bush. She was lying topless on a hill, surrounded by wildflowers. There were women walking around with backpacks and hiking boots on and no shirts on. She thought she could hear murmured sounds of sex in the air: Suck it, pound me, squeeze it, that’s it. Fortunately, she still was holding the long T-shirt she’d used to push out the back of the dryer. She put it on. A minute later, Jeff tumbled out of the hole in the wall behind her. He was wearing just his shirt and underpants. He sat up in the grass and looked around. It was a beautiful day, with one tiny cloud and some bunched trees off in the distance near a creek. “I told you,” said Polly. Jeff looked around. “Lots of interesting seminudity here,” he said, pleased. A woman appeared from behind a bush. She was wearing a very pretty long skirt—an I-want-to-go-out-on-a-wildflower-walk-with-you-and-fuck-you-later skirt— that was in kind of a forties style, with blue polka dots. She had a cute little mouth and friendly but calculating eyes and breasts shaped like breakfast muffins. She said, mostly to Jeff, “Do you need assistance?” Very sweet voice. “Sort of,” Polly said. “We’ve just popped on over from the laundromat.” The woman nodded and smiled, and then she looked down at Jeff, who was still sitting on the grass in his underpants. “You bad boy, you lost your pants, and I can see your dickybird,” she said. Jeff smiled goofily, looking up at her. Polly felt a toxic wave of jealousy and hatred and disgust, and she turned away. And that’s when she saw the most gorgeous cream-colored Cape house she’d ever seen. It had a huge wraparound porch, and it had dormer windows that reflected the sun, and it had big, softly sighing trees in front of it. Polly pointed. “I think we should go up there, Jeff,” she said. “I think I should stay here,” Jeff said dreamily, “so we know how to get back to the other side.”

• From The City of God

  Man then lived with God for his rule in a paradise at once physical and spiritual. For neither was it a paradise only physical for the advantage of the body, and not also spiritual for the advantage of the mind; nor was it only spiritual to afford enjoyment to man by his internal sensations, and not also physical to afford him enjoyment through his external senses. But obviously it was both for both ends. But after that proud and therefore envious angel (of whose fall I have said as much as I was able in the eleventh and twelfth books of this work, as well as that of his fellows, who, from being God's angels, became his angels), preferring to rule with a kind of pomp of empire rather than to be another's subject, fell from the spiritual Paradise, and essaying to insinuate his persuasive guile into the mind of man, whose unfallen condition provoked him to envy now that himself was fallen, he chose the serpent as his mouthpiece in that bodily Paradise in which it and all the other earthly animals were living with those two human beings, the man and his wife, subject to them, and harmless; and he chose the serpent because, being slippery, and moving in tortuous windings, it was suitable for his purpose. And this animal being subdued to his wicked ends by the presence and superior force of his angelic nature, he abused as his instrument, and first tried his deceit upon the woman, making his assault upon the weaker part of that human alliance, that he might gradually gain the whole, and not supposing that the man would readily give ear to him, or be deceived, but that he might yield to the error of the woman. For as Aaron was not induced to agree with the people when they blindly wished him to make an idol, and yet yielded to constraint; and as it is not credible that Solomon was so blind as to suppose that idols should be worshipped, but was drawn over to such sacrilege by the blandishments of women; so we cannot believe that Adam was deceived, and supposed the devil's word to be truth, and therefore transgressed God's law, but that he by the drawings of kindred yielded to the woman, the husband to the wife, the one human being to the only other human being. For not without significance did the apostle say, "And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression;" [726] but he speaks thus, because the woman accepted as true what the serpent told her, but the man could not bear to be severed from his only companion, even though this involved a partnership in sin. He was not on this account less culpable, but sinned with his eyes open. And so the apostle does not say, "He did not sin," but "He was not deceived. "For he shows that he sinned when he says, "By one man sin entered into the world," [727] and immediately after more distinctly, "In the likeness of Adam's transgression. "But he meant that those are deceived who do not judge that which they do to be sin; but he knew. Otherwise how were it true "Adam was not deceived? " But having as yet no experience of the divine severity, he was possibly deceived in so far as he thought his sin venial. And consequently he was not deceived as the woman was deceived, but he was deceived as to the judgment which would be passed on his apology:"The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me, and I did eat. " [728]What need of saying more? Although they were not both deceived by credulity, yet both were entangled in the snares of the devil, and taken by sin.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  Dave’s arm scribbled something rapidly. “Sure, but—let me put on the lipstick for you,” he wrote. “Okay, you can try.” Shandee grasped the arm firmly and held him so that his hand was in front of her mouth. He touched all the way around her lips, feeling the exact shape, and then, with very fine almost vibrating movements, he applied the lipstick. It was extremely red, a color called Terranova. “Good job,” said Shandee. “You’re good. And this color is great.” Her lips looked really luscious. “Thank you, Dave’s arm.” He made a little nod with his hand and then, lifting the pen, reminded her that he needed to have some of the fish-food mash and to be relieved of his chemical wastes. She took him to the toilet and popped open a little vent on his cap. A tiny trickle of gray water dripped out. Then she fed him some fish-food gruel, and he seemed quite revived. He asked her to place him on the windowsill, because he had a solar panel for energy. She did, and then she went to the party and danced and had a wonderful time, but she came home early because she felt she had a new friend that she had to take care of. When she got back her roommate Rianne was there. Rianne’s lips were very red—she’d been sampling the new lipsticks, probably—and she was holding on to Dave’s arm. The hand end was in her shirt, obviously doing something tender with one of her breasts. Rianne hurriedly drew him out. There was a pad of paper with lots of hasty writing scrawled on it next to where she was lounging on her bed. “So, you’ve discovered my arm,” Shandee said, with an edge. Rianne nodded. “He has a lovely touch.” “That he does,” Shandee agreed. Rianne said that she’d found out quite a bit about the arm and where it came from. “It belongs to someone named Dave,” she said. “I knew that,” Shandee snapped. “He went to a place called the House of Holes. There Dave had requested a larger thicker penis. Apparently you can do that. But at a price. The director, this woman named Lila, said to him: ‘Would you be willing to give your right arm for a larger penis?’ Dave said no at first, because his right arm was necessary for his work. But Lila said that it was only temporary—only till someone found the arm and took it back and stuck it on him. Dave said, ‘Oh, if it’s temporary, sure.’ So he underwent a voluntary amputation right near the elbow, and his arm had the self-contained life-support pack grafted on.” “You sure did find out a lot,” said Shandee. “I must say his touch is extremely sensitive,” Rianne went on. She threw herself back on the bed and laid the arm on her chest. Shandee watched the hand push aside the sides of Rianne’s shirt and find her breast again.

• From The City of God

  Chapter 5. --Of the Fratricidal Act of the Founder of the Earthly City, and the Corresponding Crime of the Founder of Rome. Thus the founder of the earthly city was a fratricide. Overcome with envy, he slew his own brother, a citizen of the eternal city, and a sojourner on earth. So that we cannot be surprised that this first specimen, or, as the Greeks say, archetype of crime, should, long afterwards, find a corresponding crime at the foundation of that city which was destined to reign over so many nations, and be the head of this earthly city of which we speak. For of that city also, as one of their poets has mentioned, "the first walls were stained with a brother's blood," [774] or, as Roman history records, Remus was slain by his brother Romulus. And thus there is no difference between the foundation of this city and of the earthly city, unless it be that Romulus and Remus were both citizens of the earthly city. Both desired to have the glory of founding the Roman republic, but both could not have as much glory as if one only claimed it; for he who wished to have the glory of ruling would certainly rule less if his power were shared by a living consort. In order, therefore, that the whole glory might be enjoyed by one, his consort was removed; and by this crime the empire was made larger indeed, but inferior, while otherwise it would have been less, but better. Now these brothers, Cain and Abel, were not both animated by the same earthly desires, nor did the murderer envy the other because he feared that, by both ruling, his own dominion would be curtailed,--for Abel was not solicitous to rule in that city which his brother built,--he was moved by that diabolical, envious hatred with which the evil regard the good, for no other reason than because they are good while themselves are evil. For the possession of goodness is by no means diminished by being shared with a partner either permanent or temporarily assumed; on the contrary, the possession of goodness is increased in proportion to the concord and charity of each of those who share it. In short, he who is unwilling to share this possession cannot have it; and he who is most willing to admit others to a share of it will have the greatest abundance to himself. The quarrel, then, between Romulus and Remus shows how the earthly city is divided against itself; that which fell out between Cain and Abel illustrated the hatred that subsists between the two cities, that of God and that of men. The wicked war with the wicked; the good also war with the wicked. But with the good, good men, or at least perfectly good men, cannot war; though, while only going on towards perfection, they war to this extent, that every good man resists others in those points in which he resists himself. And in each individual "the flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh. " [775]This spiritual lusting, therefore, can be at war with the carnal lust of another man; or carnal lust may be at war with the spiritual desires of another, in some such way as good and wicked men are at war; or, still more certainly, the carnal lusts of two men, good but not yet perfect, contend together, just as the wicked contend with the wicked, until the health of those who are under the treatment of grace attains final victory.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  She was lying topless on a hill, surrounded by wildflowers. There were women walking around with backpacks and hiking boots on and no shirts on. She thought she could hear murmured sounds of sex in the air: Suck it, pound me, squeeze it, that’s it. Fortunately, she still was holding the long T-shirt she’d used to push out the back of the dryer. She put it on. A minute later, Jeff tumbled out of the hole in the wall behind her. He was wearing just his shirt and underpants. He sat up in the grass and looked around. It was a beautiful day, with one tiny cloud and some bunched trees off in the distance near a creek. “I told you,” said Polly. Jeff looked around. “Lots of interesting seminudity here,” he said, pleased. A woman appeared from behind a bush. She was wearing a very pretty long skirt—an I-want-to-go-out-on-a-wildflower-walk-with-you-and-fuck-you-later skirt—that was in kind of a forties style, with blue polka dots. She had a cute little mouth and friendly but calculating eyes and breasts shaped like breakfast muffins. She said, mostly to Jeff, “Do you need assistance?” Very sweet voice. “Sort of,” Polly said. “We’ve just popped on over from the laundromat.” The woman nodded and smiled, and then she looked down at Jeff, who was still sitting on the grass in his underpants. “You bad boy, you lost your pants, and I can see your dickybird,” she said. Jeff smiled goofily, looking up at her . Polly felt a toxic wave of jealousy and hatred and disgust, and she turned away. And that’s when she saw the most gorgeous cream-colored Cape house she’d ever seen. It had a huge wraparound porch, and it had dormer windows that reflected the sun, and it had big, softly sighing trees in front of it. Polly pointed. “I think we should go up there, Jeff,” she said. “I think I should stay here,” Jeff said dreamily, “so we know how to get back to the other side.” He lay back on the grass and looked up at the sky, smiling. Then he looked over at the girl in the polka-dot skirt. She was cutting bunches of white lilacs. “You sit out here on the grass in your underpants,” said Polly. “I’m going up to that house and investigate. We’ll meet in about an hour and a half.” “Sounds good,” Jeff said. Polly walked up the hill toward the house, fuming. A man answered the door. He said his name was Mischa, and he was quite handsome, although his ears were odd—the inner parts poked out farther than the rims, which gave him an air of studiousness.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  Rianne said that she’d found out quite a bit about the arm and where it came from. “It belongs to someone named Dave,” she said. “I knew that,” Shandee snapped. “He went to a place called the House of Holes. There Dave had requested a larger thicker penis. Apparently you can do that. But at a price. The director, this woman named Lila, said to him: ‘Would you be willing to give your right arm for a larger penis?’ Dave said no at first, because his right arm was necessary for his work. But Lila said that it was only temporary—only till someone found the arm and took it back and stuck it on him. Dave said, ‘Oh, if it’s temporary, sure.’ So he underwent a voluntary amputation right near the elbow, and his arm had the self-contained life-support pack grafted on.” “You sure did find out a lot,” said Shandee. “I must say his touch is extremely sensitive,” Rianne went on. She threw herself back on the bed and laid the arm on her chest. Shandee watched the hand push aside the sides of Rianne’s shirt and find her breast again. “Hmm,” Shandee said. “I don’t know about this. I found him, not you.” She felt finger-snappings of jealousy. Rianne’s lips parted. “Oh my gosh, his fingers know what to do,” she said, flushing. The hand was gently rolling her nipple like a tender round pea. And then it surrounded her whole breast and shook it once. After that it turned and began crawling over her belly toward her pajama pants. “Are you just going to let that happen?” Shandee said, riveted. “Um, yes,” she said. “Could you dim the light?” Shandee turned off the overhead light and watched the arm undo the knot of Rianne’s pajama bottoms. It disappeared. Rianne went “Shooooo.” Shandee turned away. “He’s found it,” Rianne said, “and, boy, he’s got the touch of a master.” Then her voice changed and she said, “Oh my god, two fingers. Haw. Haw.” Shandee glanced at her. Rianne’s knees had fallen apart and her eyes were slitted closed. “He seems to want to make me come, oh god, oh shit.” Then: “Ham, ham, oo, oo, oo, oo, oo, oo, ham, ham, HAW!” She lay still and held up the arm. He made an O with his fingers, which glittered with her sex juices. “You want me to go with you?” Rianne said. “Okay, I’ll go. Bye, Shandee, I’m going!” With that, her face and body began to blur, and she swooshed into a long thin shape that went through the finger-O of Dave’s hand. She was gone. The hand lay on the bed. It began crawling toward Shandee.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  δυσεύρετος, ov, hard to find out, Aesch. Pr. 816. 2. hard to find or get, Xen. Mem. 3.14, 7. 3. hard to find one’s way through, impenetrable, thn Eur. Bacch. 1221. δυσέφικτος, ov, hard to come at, Polyb. 32. 11, 3, al. δυσέφοδος, ov, hard to get at, inaccessible, Diod. 1. 57. δυσέψανος [ἃ], ov, Suid. hard to digest; δυσέψητος, ov, A. B. 20. δυσζηλία, ἡ, jealousy, Ath. 589 A. δύσζηλος, ov, exceeding jealous, Od. 7.307; ἐπί τινι Ap. Rh. 4. 1089; γυνή Plut. Alex. g; τὸ δ, Id. 2. 471 A:—Adv., δυσζήλως ἔχειν πρός twa Id. Alex. 773; cf. ζηλήμων. II. rivalling in hardship, αἰθυίῃσι βίον δύσζηλον ἔχοντες Ep. Hom. 8. δυσζήτητος, ov, hard to seek or track, Xen. Cyn. 8, 1, Poll. 5. 50. δυσζωΐα, ἡ, an ill life, Byz. δύσζωος, ov, wretched, Bios δ. Anth. P. 9. 574. δυσήκεστος, ov, hard to heal or cure, Hipp. Fract. 770, Anth. P. 3. 19. δυσηκήσ, és, =foreg., Hesych. δυσηκοέω, to be hard of hearing : to be disobedient, Oribas. 298 Matth. δυσηκοΐα, ἡ, hardness of hearing, Plut. 2. 794. Ὁ: disobedience, 1073 B. δυσήκοος, ov, hard of hearing, Anth. P. append. 304: disobedient, Plut. Ao 5} 105 II. hard to be heard, Philostr. 496. δυσηλάκᾶτος, ov, a spinner of ill, Μοῖρα Nonn. D. 1. 367. δυσήλᾶτος, ov, hard to drive through or over, Poll. 1. 186. SuonAeyns, és, Homeric epith. of death and war, that lays one miserably asleep, and so cruel, ruthless, δυσηλεγέος θανάτοιο, 5. πολέμοιο Od. 22. 325, Il. 20.1543 so, myyades .. δυσηλεγέες cruel frosts, Hes. Op. 504; δυσηλεγέος ἀπὸ δεσμοῦ Id. Th. 652: also of men, πολῖται Theogn. 793; γείτονες Maxim. 7. καταρχ. 87.—Ep. word, like τανηλεγής, from λέγω to lay asleep, whereas ἀπηλεγέως, ἀνηλεγής come from ἀλέγω. δυσήλιος, Dor. —dAvos, ον, ill-sunned, sunless, κνέφας Aesch. Eum. 396, cf. Eur. Rhes. 247, Plut. Mar. 11, etc. 11. too much sunned, parched, A. B. 36. δυσημερέω, fo have an unlucky day, be unlucky, Pherecr. Kpam. 20, Dion. H. 1. 57 :—opp. to εὐημερέω. δυσημέρημα, τό, ill-luck, Schol. 11. 6. 336. δυσημερία, Dor. -Gpepla, ἡ, an unlucky day, a mishap, misery, δυσα- μεριᾶν πρύτανιν Aesch. (Fr. 234) ap. Ar. Ran. 1287; μοῖρα δυσαμερίας Soph. Fr. 518; cf. Plut. Eum. 9. δυσήμερος, ov, (ἥμερος) hard to tame, restive, Strabo 155. δυσημήξ, és, -- δυσεμής, Hipp. Aph. 1249; δυσήμετος, ον, Id. 1201. δυσήνεμος, ον, (ἄνεμος) with ill winds, stormy, Soph. Ant. 591. δυσηνίαστος, ov, hard to bridle :—Adv. —Tws, Synes. 195 A. δυσήνιος, ov, (via) =foreg., refractory, γυνή Menand. Incert. 259 a. B. (ἀνία) -- δυσάνιος, ill at ease, uneasy, Hipp. Epid. 3. 1108. δυσηνιόχητος, ov, hard to hold in, ungovernable, Luc. Abd. 17. δυσηνὕτος, ον, (aviw) hard to accomplish, Joseph. B. J. 5. 12, 1. δυσήρηβ, ες, (ξἄρω) difficult, opp. to εὐήρης, Suid. Svonprs, 150s, ὁ, ἡ, = δύσερις I, Pind. O. 6. 33 ;—cited as the Att. form of δύσερις by Moer. p. 126, cf. Lob. Phryn. 707. δυσήριστος and -ριτος, ov, =foreg., Hesych.

• From Vision Quest (1979)

  I’ve got to hide in the shrubs and scare Damon Thuringer’s little brother, who delivers our paper, and I’ve got to run my three miles. VII“We may have a guest for breakfast one of these mornings,” Dad forewarns us from the door on his way to work. “Hmmmm?” I look over at Carla. “Hmmmm?” She looks back. For the past few weeks Dad has been staying out pretty late on nights off. Except Monday. On Mondays we watch pro football on TV. We woke up to lots of snow. I couldn’t scare little Thuringer this morning. I knew he’d see my tracks wherever I hid. We sit at the kitchen table and I mention to Carla that we’d better wax the DeSoto tonight. They’ll be salting the roads. “What do you mean ‘we’?” she asks. “Have you got an oozling in your pocket?” An oozling? I think to myself. What the hell’s an oozling? Carla is forever making up animals. The oozling is a new one. “Okay,” I say indignantly. “I’ll wax it myself.” “I’ll wax the DeSoto,” Carla says. “I was teasing. You’ve got to work , you’ve got to run , you’ve got to study , and you’ve got to sleep . I’ll wax the DeSoto,” she says. “And you’ve got to make love to me. You said it burns up two hundred calories.” “It’s the truth,” I say. “How do you like my new animal?” She beams. “Fine,” I reply. “An oozling sounds like a nice animal.” Before we leave I fetch the space heater from the upstairs closet and carry it out to the garage so Carla won’t have to look for it tonight. On the way to school I promise we’ll take a picnic out to Seven Mile to see the deer. * * * Carla didn’t take to me right away. She did, however, take to Austin Tower, a Spokane Community College basketball player from New York. She got a job right off at the New Pioneer, a health food store downtown. That’s how she met Belle, who was her first Spokane girl friend. They soon arranged things so they could work the same hours. Although I prefer the night shift so I can prowl around after work, sometimes in summer I get stuck on days. Some days I’d look out a Main Avenue window after I’d delivered somebody’s lunch and see Carla’s blue hat with the white polka dots bouncing down the street, her long rusty hair frizzing in curls beneath it like a bizarre noontime sunset. In late July a higher hat joined her. It was brown leather and floppy-brimmed and belonged to Austin Tower. Carla and I talked very little last summer. I think she took me for an archgoon. God knows I have my goonish aspects. I’m not what any truly discerning female would consider good-looking either. I wear my hair pretty short now, so I’m in trouble in the plumage department.

• From The Things They Carried (1990)

  Jersey shoreline, precisely where the land touched water at high tide, where things came together but also separated. It was this separate-but-together quality, she wrote, that had inspired her to pick up the pebble and to carry it in her breast pocket for several days, where it seemed weightless, and then to send it through the mail, by air, as a token of her truest feelings for him. Lieutenant Cross found this romantic. But he wondered what her truest feelings were, exactly, and what she meant by separate-but-together. He wondered how the tides and waves had come into play on that afternoon along the Jersey shoreline when Martha saw the pebble and bent down to rescue it from geology. He imagined bare feet. Martha was a poet, with the poet's sensibilities, and her feet would be brown and bare, the toenails unpainted, the eyes chilly and somber like the ocean in March, and though it was painful, he wondered who had been with her that afternoon. He imagined a pair of shadows moving along the strip of sand where things came together but also separated. It was phantom jealousy, he knew, but he couldn't help himself. He loved her so much. On the march, through the hot days of early April, he carried the pebble in his mouth, turning it with his tongue, tasting sea salt and moisture. His mind wandered. He had difficulty keeping his attention on the war. On occasion he would yell at his men to spread out the column, to keep their eyes open, but then he would slip away into daydreams, just pretending, walking barefoot along the Jersey shore, with Martha, carrying nothing. He would feel himself rising. Sun and waves and gentle winds, all love and lightness. What they carried varied by mission. When a mission took them to the mountains, they carried mosquito netting, machetes, canvas tarps, and extra bug juice. If a mission seemed especially hazardous, or if it involved a place they knew to be bad, they carried everything they could. In certain heavily mined AOs, where the land was dense with Toe Poppers and Bouncing Betties, they took turns humping a 28-pound mine detector. With its headphones and big sensing plate, the equipment was a stress on the lower back and shoulders, awkward to handle, often useless because of the shrapnel in the earth, but they carried it anyway, partly for safety, partly for the illusion of safety.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  φθόνος, 6, ill-will or malice, esp. as felt at the good fortune of others (Deff. Plat. 416 B, Arist. Rhet. 2. 10, cf. pOovéw 1.1), envy, jealousy, Lat. invidia, first in Hdt. and Pind.; opp. to εὔνοια, Plat. Legg. 635 A; to ἔπαινος, Lys. 168. 16; φθόνον ἔχειν to feel envy or jealousy, Aesch. Pr. 859; but, φθόνον ἔχειν, also, to incur envy or dislike, Pind. P. 11. 45, Isocr. 95 E; so, φθόνον ἀλφάνειν Eur. Med. 297; φθόνῳ χρῆσθαι Plat. Phaedr. 253 B; κρέσσων οἰκτιρμῶν φθόνος better to be envied than pitied! Pind. P. 1. 164, cf. Andoc, 20. 26; πρὸς yap τὸν ἔχονθ᾽ ὃ φθ. ἕρπει Soph, Aj. 157, cf. O. T. 380; ἐς τἀπίσημα δ᾽ 6 φθ. πηδᾶν φιλεῖ Eur. Fr. 296; $0. ἐστί τινι πρός twa Thuc. 2. 485 :---φθόνῳ through envy, Hdt. 3. 30., 9. 71, cf. Eur. Bacch. 1000 ;—so, κατὰ φθόνον Aesch. Eum. 686, Plat.; ξὺν φθόνῳ Eur. Andr, 780; διὰ φθόνου Ep. Phil. 1. 15 :—c. gen. objecti, envy for, jealousy of, τῶν Ἑλλήνων φθόνῳ Hat. 8. 124, cf. Aesch. Pr. 859, Lys. 195. 13 (cf. φθονέω I. 3); but c. gen. subjecti, exvy or jealousy felt by another, Eur. Alc. 1135, Plat. Hipp. Ma. 282 Α :---φθ. ἐπί τινι Plut. 2. 39 E, etc.; εἴς τινα Anth. P. 6. 257; πρός τινα Luc. Rhet. Pr. 22 :—in pl. envyingss, jealousies, heartburnings, Isocr, Antid. § 174, Plat. Legg. 679 C, 801 E, etc. 2. on the φθόνος or jealousy of the gods, cf. φθονερός 1. 2, and v. Valck. Hdt. 3. 40, Ruhnk. Rut. Lup. p. 75, Blomf. Aesch. Pers. 368 (362), Ag. 921 (947); hence the phrases, τὸν φθόνον δὲ πρόσκυσον Soph. Ph. 776; εὐλαβούμενος φθόνον Dem. 327. 13: cf. προσκυνέω 1. I, νέμεσις 1. 2: ΤΙ. refusal from feelings of ill-will or envy, φθόνος μὲν οὐδεὶς .. Aesch. Pr. 628; οὐδεὶς φθόνος or φθόνος οὐδείς, c. inf., said when you grant a request willingly, ἃ τυγχάνω ἀκηκοώς, pO. οὐδεὶς λέγειν Plat. Phaedo 61D; οὐδεὶς .. pO. αὐτῷ διελθεῖν αὐτά Id. Soph. 217 A, cf. B, Legg. 640 Ὁ, 664 A ;—so, ἀποκτείνειν φθόνος [ἐστὶ] γυ- vatkas ’tis invidious to.., 1 dare not.., Eur. Hec. 288. (Prob. from the same Root as φθίω, φθίνω, to diminish.)

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  jealousy, Act. Ap. 7. 9. 2. to esteem or pronounce happy, admire, praise, Twa τινος one for a thing, Soph. El. 1027, cf. Isocr. 59 B; ζηλῶ σε τῆς εὐβουλίας Ar. Av. 1010; τῆς εὐγλωττίας Id. Eq. 837; τῆς εὐτυχίας τὸν πρέσβυν Id. Vesp. 1450: more rarely, ¢. τινά τι Soph. Aj. 552; ¢. σε dOovvera.., Aesch. Pr. 330; ὅτι τον Xen. Hell. 6. 5, 45; πολλά σε ζηλῶ βίου, μάλιστα δ᾽ εἰ... Soph. Fr. 516; c. part., ¢. σε θανόντα πρὶν κακῶν ἰδεῖν βάθος Aesch. Pers, 712, cf. Eur. Or. 52 i— ζήλωμα τεσ ζιγγίβερις. ironical, ζηλῶ σε happy in your ignorance! Eur. Med. 60, cf. Valck. Phoen. 405, Thuc. 5. 105. 11. c. acc. rei, to desire emulously, strive after, 6 μὲν δόξης ἐπιθυμεῖ καὶ τοῦτο eChrwKe Dem. 22. 18, cf. 500. 2:—Pass., Plat. Phaedr. 232 A, etc.; ἡ ἀρετὴ ζηλοῦται Lys. 193. 12; τὰ ζηλούμενα Arist. Rhet. 1. 5, 5. 2. Pass. also of persons, to be impelled by zeal, Ep. Gal. 4. 18. ζήλωμα, τό, that which is emulated: in pl. high fortunes, Eur. 1. T. 379, cf. Dion. H. 7. 55. II. in pl. also emulous efforts, rivalries, Lat. contentio, τὰ τῶν νέων ¢. Aeschin. 27. 13, cf. Dem. 424. 17, Anth. ἘΣ 2τοὶ 2. emulation, ζὨήλωμα τῆς τῶν Ῥωμαίων ἀρετῆς App. Civ. 5.113; in pl., Lyc. 355. ζήλωσις, ews, 7, emulation, imitation, τῶν βαρβάρων Thue. 1. 132; μεγάλων συγγραφέων Longin. 13. 2. IL. zealous pursuit, ai πολύτροποι τοῦ βίου ¢. Philo 1. 362: a custom, fashion, Ib. 353, al. TIT. jealousy, Lxx (Num. 5. 14). ζηλωτέος, a, ov, verb. Adj. to be emulated, Diog. L. 5. 74. II. ζηλωτέον one must emulate, Polyb. 4. 27,8; νέοις ¢ τοὺς γέροντας Plut. ap. Stob. 586. 1. fnAwris, οὔ, 6, ax emulator, zealous admirer or follower, μιμητὴς καὶ ¢. τῆς ἀρετῆς Isocr. 4B; ¢. καὶ ἐρασταὶ τῆς Λακεδαιμονίων παιδείας Piat. Prot. 343A; τῆς ἡλικίας τοῦ μειρακίου Aeschin. 50. 26; τῶν καλῶν βουλευμάτων Id. 51.8; τῶν ἀγαθῶν τῶν εἰς τὴν πόλιν μαρτυ- ρουμένων C.1. 2448. 80; Θουκυδίδου, ᾿Αντισθένους Luc. Hist. Conscr. 15, Hermot. 14. 2. jealous, θεὸς ¢. LXX (Ex. 20.5). II. a zealot, used to translate Kavavirns or Καναναῖος (from the Hebr. gana, to glow, be zealous), Ev. Matth. 10. 4, Marc. 3. 18, Luc. 6. 15, Act. Ap. I. 13. ζηλωτικός, 7, dv, emulous, Arist. Rhet. 2. 11, 1; περί τι Ib. 3.