Date: 1684

"Since Harmony, like Fire to VVax, does fit / The softned Heart Impressions to admit."

— Behn, Aphra (1640?-1689)

Date: 1703

"Distorted Nature shakes at the Controul, / With strong Convulsions rends my strugling Soul; / Each vital String cracks with th' unequal Strife, / Departing Love racks like departing Life; / Yet there the Sorrow ceases with the Breath, / But Love each day renews th' torturing scene of Death."

— Egerton [née Fyge; other married name Field], Sarah (1670-1723)

Date: 1717

"I render back the Treasure of thy Heart: / When in some new fair Breast it finds a Room, And I shall lie neglected in my Tomb; / Remember, oh! remember, the fair She / Can never love thee, darling Youth! like me."

— Behn, Aphra (1640?-1689)

Date: 1713, 1719

"Thus my Thoughts play'd at Racket, and seldom minded the Line of Reason"

— Barker, Jane (1675-1743)

Date: 1713, 1719

"[M]y Mind labour'd under a perpetual shaking Palsy of Hope and Fear; my whole Interiour was nothing but Distraction and Uncertainty"

— Barker, Jane (1675-1743)

Date: 1713, 1719

"It is this reserv'd Mein, Madam, which has often deter'd me, and commanded my Tongue to a respectful Silence; whilst my poor Heart, overcharg'd with Passion, only eas'd it self with Sighs, and my Looks were the only Language whereby to express my interior Thoughts"

— Barker, Jane (1675-1743)

Date: 1719-1720, 1725

"Ill Genius, or that Devil, Curiosity, ... too much haunts the Minds of Women"

— Haywood [née Fowler], Eliza (1693?-1756)

Date: 1719-1720, 1725

"[W]here the interiour Beauties are consulted, and Souls are Devotees, is truly noble; Love there is a Divinity indeed, because he is immortal and unchangeable; and if our earthy part partake the Bliss, and craving Nature is in all obey'd; Possession thus desir'd, and thus obtain'd,...

— Haywood [née Fowler], Eliza (1693?-1756)

Date: 1723

"Your Letter has so ruffled my whole Interior, that I know not how to write common Sense."

— Barker, Jane (1675-1743)

Date: 1926

"In the goods yard at Paddington she had almost pounced on the clue, the clue to the secret country of her mind."

— Warner, Sylvia Townsend (1893-1978)