I do not say anything from jealousy.

The words of Anna Held, spoken with simplicity and grace, shine with the light of inner dignity: “I do not say anything from jealousy.” In this brief phrase we find not only a defense of character, but a principle that echoes through the ages. For jealousy is a fire that burns the tongue before it burns the world, and many words have been spoken from its poison that could never be unsaid. To renounce jealousy as the source of one’s speech is to choose truth over envy, love over rivalry, and peace over discord.

Held herself, a celebrated actress and singer of the early twentieth century, lived in the bright but merciless glare of the stage. Surrounded by competition, whispers, and the constant comparisons of critics and admirers alike, she knew well the temptation to let jealousy guide her words. Yet she refused. By saying she did not speak from envy, she revealed the strength of her spirit: that fame may pass, rivals may rise, but her dignity would not be tarnished by bitter speech. Her quote is not just personal—it is universal, a call to master the tongue, lest it become a weapon drawn from the sheath of jealousy.

The ancients, too, warned of this. In the Proverbs of Solomon it is written, “Jealousy is the rottenness of the bones.” The Greeks told of Hera, who, consumed by envy, brought suffering upon many. But the wise also knew that jealousy could be overcome. The Stoics taught that the words of a just man must flow from reason, not passion. Thus, Anna Held’s declaration places her within this noble tradition: the vow that one’s words will not be servants of envy, but instruments of truth.

Consider the example of Julius Caesar. When confronted with the brilliance of Pompey, his one-time ally, Caesar might have let jealousy cloud his judgment and break Rome apart with reckless fury. Instead, for a time, he tempered his speech, choosing diplomacy until conflict became unavoidable. Contrast this with the fate of Alcibiades, the brilliant Athenian general whose vanity and envy drove him to betray his own city. His words, sharpened by jealousy, destroyed trust and led Athens toward ruin. The lesson is clear: the source of our words shapes the fate of our lives and our people.

Thus the meaning of Held’s words becomes profound: to live without speaking from jealousy is to live in freedom. The jealous tongue binds itself to comparison, always measuring, always envying, always cutting. But the tongue that is free from jealousy speaks with sincerity and creates peace. To say nothing from envy is to preserve honor, for words cannot be withdrawn once released. They either build or destroy; they either heal or wound.

The lesson, therefore, is this: let every man and woman guard their speech. When jealousy stirs within, let silence be the first answer, and reflection the second. Ask yourself: Do I speak from truth, or from envy? From justice, or from bitterness? If the heart is clouded, let the lips remain sealed until clarity comes. This practice is not weakness but strength, for self-control is the highest mastery.

Practical actions flow from this teaching. When you feel the stirrings of envy, write your words in private before you speak them aloud. Weigh them as though on the scales of justice. Surround yourself with companions who uplift rather than provoke comparison. And most of all, cultivate gratitude, for a grateful heart has little room for jealousy. In this way, your speech will be pure, your relationships harmonious, and your soul at peace.

So let this teaching be passed down: jealousy corrupts both thought and speech, but the soul that masters it becomes noble. Anna Held’s words remind us that dignity lies not in never feeling envy, but in refusing to give it voice. Hold your tongue against jealousy, and your words shall shine as truth, bringing light rather than shadow, harmony rather than strife, to all who hear them.