Date: 1785

"He conjectured, that the soul is seated in a small gland in the brain, called the pineal gland: That there, as in her chamber of presence, she receives intelligence of every thing that affects the senses, by means of a subtile fluid contained in the nerves, called the animal spirits; and that sh...

— Reid, Thomas (1710-1796)

Date: 1785-7, 1791, 1792

"Thus a large dumpling to its cell confin'd / (A very apt allusion to my mind)."

— Wolcot, John, pseud. Peter Pindar, (1738-1819)

Date: 1793

"Flit, Galloway, and find / Some narrow, dirty, dungeon cave, / The picture of thy mind"

— Burns, Robert (1759-1796)

Date: 1794

"Five windows light the cavern'd Man"

— Blake, William (1757-1827)

Date: 1800

"Every sense was an inlet of pleasure, because it was an avenue to knowledge; and my soul brooded over the world of ideas, and glowed with exultation at the grandeur and beauty of its own creations"

— Brown, Charles Brockden (1771-1810)

Date: 1810

"And yet, my heart, within thy silent cell / Dwells a fair image which is lovelier still."

— Hurdis, James (1763-1801)

Date: 1817

"But he, the bard of every age and clime, / Of genius fruitful, ardent and sublime, / Who, from the glowing mint of fancy, pours / No spurious metal, fused from common ores, / But gold, to matchless purity refined, / And stamp'd with all the godhead in his mind."

— Gifford, William (1756-1826)

Date: 1820

"How to entangle, trammel up and snare / Your soul in mine, and labyrinth you there / Like the hid scent in an unbudded rose?"

— Keats, John (1795-1821)

Date: 1850

"My mind was at that time / A parti-coloured show of grave and gay, / Solid and light, short-sighted and profound; / Of inconsiderate habits and sedate, / Consorting in one mansion unreproved. "

— Wordsworth, William (1770-1850)

Date: 1854

"All closely imprisoned forces rend and destroy. The air that would be healthful to the earth, the water that would enrich it, the heat that would ripen it, tear it when caged up. So in her bosom even now; the strongest qualities she possessed, long turned upon themselves, became a heap of obdura...

— Dickens, Charles (1812-1870)