Date: 1793
"We must sharpen our intellectual weapons; add to the stock of our knowledge; be pervaded with a sense of the magnitude of our cause; and perpetually increase that calm presence of mind and self possession which must enable us to do justice to our principles."
preview | full record— Godwin, William (1756-1836)
Date: 1794
"Never shall time from my fond heart efface / His image"
preview | full record— Bowles, William Lisle (1762-1850)
Date: 1794
"I bring forth from my teeming bosom myriads of flames. / And thou dost stamp them with a signet"
preview | full record— Blake, William (1757-1827)
Date: 1794
"No--no!--no man's temper's more mild, when taken at a proper season, but now his head's as crowded as a newspaper, and in as much confusion as your work-bag, what with the thoughts of his new varnish, and the expectation of Mr. Vapour,--I'll speak to him for you."
preview | full record— Hoare, Prince (1755-1834)
Date: 1794
"Though it is not a direct article of the Christian system that this world that we inhabit is the whole of the habitable Creation, yet it is so worked up therewith, from what is called the Mosaic account of the creation, the story of Eve and the apple, and the counterpart of that story, the death...
preview | full record— Paine, Thomas (1737-1809)
Date: 1794, 1797
"If you have reduced me to the necessity of again debating the same painful and gloomy question, if you cannot give that elasticity to my mind which will animate it to despise difficulty and steel it against injustice, however good your intentions may have been, I fear you have but imposed misery...
preview | full record— Holcroft, Thomas (1745-1809)
Date: 1795
One may have a heart of the noblest stamp
preview | full record— Holcroft, Thomas (1745-1809)
Date: 1796
"No drug, nor juice of all the acid tribe, / Can move the Tints, which Glassy Pores imbibe; / So no mean prejudice, no bribes, nor art, / Efface th' Impressions of an Upright Heart."
preview | full record— Bishop, Samuel (1731-1795)
Date: 1796
"Behold the wretch, who from that cavern [a madhouse?--"Sad habitation of the lost, insane"] flies, / Hell in his heart, destruction in his eyes"
preview | full record— Merry, Robert (1755-1798)