Date: 1700, 1705

"Wit is a Flux, a Looseness of the Brain, / And Sense-abstract has too much Pride to reign."

— Defoe, Daniel (1660?-1731)

Date: 1700, 1705

"For Sense, like Water, is but Wit condense, / And Wit, like Air, is rarify'd from Sense."

— Defoe, Daniel (1660?-1731)

Date: 1700

"Oh! all ye Powers that virtuous Love inspire, / Assist me now: inform my Vocal Organs / With Angel Eloquence, such as can melt / His Heart of Flint, and move his former Kindness."

— Centlivre [née Freeman; other married name Carroll], Susanna (bap. 1669?, d. 1723)

Date: 1701

"So when against the Tide the Sailor toils / to force his loaded Bark, the Current foils / His Pains, down Stream the master'd Vessel's drove"

— Sherburne, Sir Edward (bap. 1616, d. 1702)

Date: 1701, 1704

"The application of our Thoughts to other Subjects is like looking upon the Rays of the Sun as it shines to us from a Wall, or upon the Image of it as it returns from a Watry Mirrour, but this is looking up directly against the Fons veri lucidus, the bright Source of Intellectual Light a...

— Norris, John (1657-1712)

Date: 1702

"The boiling Passion that disturbs thy Soul, / Spreads Clouds around, and make thy purpose dark."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1702

"Love, Sorrow, and the Sting of vile Reproach, / Succeeding one another in their Course, / Like Drops of Eating Water on the Marble, / At length have worn my boasted Courage down."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1702

"For oh! My faithful Haly, / Another Care has taken up thy Master; / Spight of the high-wrought Tempest in my Soul, / Spight of the Pangs, which Jealousy has cost me; / This haughty Woman reigns within my Breast: / In vain I strive to put her from my Thoughts, / To drive her out with Empire, and ...

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1702

"A Flood of Passion rises in my Breast, / And labours fiercely upward to my Eyes."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1702

"My Heart beats higher, and my nimble Spirits / Ride swiftly thro' their purple Channels round: / 'Tis the last blaze of Life: Nature revives / Like a dim, winking Lamp, that flashes brightly / With parting Light, and strait is dark for ever."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)