Date: 1791, 1806
"When from the festive bow'r / The frenzied Homicide retreats, / And, in his bosom's cell, / Essays each rising throb to quell;"
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)
Date: 1791, 1806
"Yet in my bosom's ruby cell / The philosophic lore shall live!"
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)
Date: 1791, 1794
"'I cannot believe it possible,' said Montraville, 'that a mind once so pure as Charlotte Temple's, should so suddenly become the mansion of vice."
preview | full record— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)
Date: 1792
"Taught from infancy that beauty is a woman's sceptre, the mind shapes itself to the body, and, roaming round its gilt cage, only seeks to adorn its prison."
preview | full record— Wollstonecraft, Mary (1759-1797)
Date: 1792
"There are, it is true, trials when the good man must appeal to God from the injustice of man; and amidst the whining candour of hissings of envy, erect a pavilion in his own mind to retire to till the rumour be overpast."
preview | full record— Wollstonecraft, Mary (1759-1797)
Date: 1792
"The human mind is built of nobler materials than to be easily corrupted."
preview | full record— Wollstonecraft, Mary (1759-1797)
Date: 1792
"False, indeed, must be the light when the drapery of situation hides the man, and makes him stalk in masquerade, dragging from one scene of dissipation to another the nerveless limbs that hang with stupid listlessness, and rolling round the vacant eye, which plainly tells us that there is no min...
preview | full record— Wollstonecraft, Mary (1759-1797)
Date: 1793
"I must consider what's to be done--and in this room my thoughts are too confined to reflect."
preview | full record— Inchbald [née Simpson], Elizabeth (1753-1821)
Date: 1793
"For what is sleep, but temporary death; / Sealing up all the windows of the soul, / And binding ev'ry thought in torpid chains?"
preview | full record— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)
Date: 1795 (w. 1787)
"Words may flatter you, but the countenance never can deceive you; the eyes are the windows of the soul, and through them you are to watch what passes in the inmost recesses of the heart."
preview | full record— Edgeworth, Maria