Date: 1702

"Do you understand how your Soul ... preserves its Treasure of Ideas, to produce them at pleasure"?

— Trotter, Catherine, later Cockburn, (1674?-1749)

Date: 1702

But if ideas "remain in the Soul when I was only thinking of a Horse, whereever they are bestow'd, it may be presum'd, there is room for that one idea more without thrusting out another to give it place: and when that one is among them, I see no more reason why they must be all new imprest, than ...

— Trotter, Catherine, later Cockburn, (1674?-1749)

Date: 1702

"When Friends converse together Face to Face; / Then freely they Unbosom their Requests, / And treasure Secrets in each others Breasts, / As in firm Cabinets, close lock'd, where none / Can find the Key, but only each his own."

— Mollineux [née Southworth], Mary (1651-1695)

Date: 1703

Souls are "Like Tapers hid in Urns they shine. / The Life of Sense and Growth we only see, / Which Beasts enjoy as well as we"

— Chudleigh [née Lee], Mary, Lady Chudleigh (bap. 1656, d. 1710)

Date: 1703

"The streiten'd Intellect immur'd does lie, / Shut up within a narrow place, / Till Nature does enlarge the Space, / And by degrees the Organs fit, / For those great Operations which are wrought by it."

— Chudleigh [née Lee], Mary, Lady Chudleigh (bap. 1656, d. 1710)

Date: 1703

"The true, substantial Wealth is lodg'd within; / 'Tis there the brightest Gems are found: / Such as wou'd great and glorious Treasures win, Treasures which theirs for ever will remain, / Must Piety and Wisdom strive to gain."

— Chudleigh [née Lee], Mary, Lady Chudleigh (bap. 1656, d. 1710)

Date: 1713

"Away the Skilful Doctor comes / Of Recipes and Med'cines full, / To check the giddy Whirl of Nature's Fires, / If so th' unruly Case requires; / Or with his Cobweb-cleansing Brooms / To sweep and clear the over-crouded Scull, / If settl'd Spirits flag, and make the Patient dull."

— Finch [née], Anne, Countess of Winchilsea (1666-1720)

Date: 1713

"Behold him now contemplating that Head, / From which long-since both Flesh, and Brains are fled; / Questioning, if that empty, hollow Bowl / Did not ere while contain the Human Soul."

— Finch [née], Anne, Countess of Winchilsea (1666-1720)

Date: 1713

"On Sleep intruding dost thy Shadows spread, / Thy gloomy Terrours round the silent Bed, / And croud with boading Dreams the Melancholy Head."

— Finch [née], Anne, Countess of Winchilsea (1666-1720)

Date: 1722, 1739

"Thoughts of what I must suffer by the Loss of Don Antonio were crowded in my Imagination, and left no Room for Rest."

— Aubin, Penelope (1679?-1731?)