Date: 1778, 1779

"I must be divested, not merely of a filial piety, but of all humanity, could I ever think upon this subject, and not be wounded to the soul."

— Burney [married name D'Arblay], Frances (1752-1840)

Date: 1778, 1779

"But I will not dwell upon a subject which almost compels from me reflections that cannot but be wounding to a heart so formed for filial tenderness as my Evelina's."

— Burney [married name D'Arblay], Frances (1752-1840)

Date: 1778, 1779

"Lord Orville, with an air of gravity that wounded my very soul, then wished me good night."

— Burney [married name D'Arblay], Frances (1752-1840)

Date: 1779

"Hope delayed fatigues the mind, / And drinks the spirits up"

— Newton, John (1725-1807)

Date: 1779

"There are, my Liege, who have with groundless jealousy / Poison'd Lord Edward's mind, and work'd on him / To yield to infamy his spotless Bride."

— Cowley [née Parkhouse], Hannah (1743-1809)

Date: 1779, 1781

"When Horace says of Pindar, that he pours his violence and rapidity of verse, as a river swoln with rain rushes from the mountain; or of himself, that his genius wanders in quest of poetical decorations, as the bee wanders to collect honey; he, in either case, produces a simile; the mind is impr...

— Johnson, Samuel (1709-1784)

Date: 1779, 1781

"A memory admitting some things and rejecting others, an intellectual digestion that concocted the pulp of learning, but refused the husks, had the appearance of an instinctive elegance, of a particular provision made by Nature for literary politeness."

— Johnson, Samuel (1709-1784)

Date: 1779, 1781

"But the power of Cowley is not so much to move the affections, as to exercise the understanding."

— Johnson, Samuel (1709-1784)

Date: 1779, 1781

"The diction, being the vehicle of the thoughts, first presents itself to the intellectual eye; and if the first appearance offends, a further knowledge is not often sought."

— Johnson, Samuel (1709-1784)

Date: 1777, 1780

"He made but little reply; but the impression sunk deep into his rancorous heart; every word in Edmund's behalf was like a poisoned arrow that rankled in the wound, and grew every day more inflamed."

— Reeve, Clara (1729-1807)