Date: 1790

"When the search was over, and he became convinced she was fled; the deep workings of his disappointed passions fermented into rage which exceeded all bounds."

— Radcliffe [née Ward], Ann (1764-1823)

Date: 1790

"Yet the banditti had steadily persisted in affirming that he was not concealed in their recesses; and this circumstance, which threw a deeper shade over the fears of Hippolitus, imparted a glimmering of hope to the mind of Julia."

— Radcliffe [née Ward], Ann (1764-1823)

Date: 1790

"The marquis, meanwhile, whose indefatigable search after Julia failed of success, was successively the slave of alternate passions, and he poured forth the spleen of disappointment on his unhappy domestics."

— Radcliffe [née Ward], Ann (1764-1823)

Date: 1790

"But a new affliction was preparing for the marquis, which attacked him where he was most vulnerable; and the veil which had so long overshadowed his reason was now to be removed."

— Radcliffe [née Ward], Ann (1764-1823)

Date: 1790

"This information lighted up the wildest passions of his nature; his former sufferings faded away before the stronger influence of the present misfortune, and it seemed as if he had never tasted misery till now."

— Radcliffe [née Ward], Ann (1764-1823)

Date: 1790

"His mind was not yet sufficiently hardened by guilt to repel the arrows of conscience, and his imagination responded to her power."

— Radcliffe [née Ward], Ann (1764-1823)

Date: 1790

"His last words struck with the force of lightning upon the mind of Ferdinand; they seemed to say that his mother might yet exist."

— Radcliffe [née Ward], Ann (1764-1823)

Date: 1790, 1794

"You, my dear friend, who have felt the tender attachments of love and friendship, and the painful anxieties which absence occasions, even amidst scenes of variety and pleasure; who understand the value at which tidings from those we love is computed in the arithmetic of the heart."

— Williams, Helen Maria (1759-1827)

Date: 1790, 1794

He was allowed to do so, and read it till every word was imprinted on his memory; and after enjoying the sad luxury of holding it that night on his bosom, was forced the next morning to relinquish his treasure."

— Williams, Helen Maria (1759-1827)

Date: 1790, 1794

"How many fine-spun threads of reasoning would my wandering thoughts have broken; and how difficult should I have found it to arrange arguments and inferences in the cells of my brain!"

— Williams, Helen Maria (1759-1827)