Date: 1751, 1791

"The passions are a num'rous crowd, / Imperious, positive, and loud: / Curb these licentious sons of strife; / Hence chiefly rise the storms of life: / If they grow mutinous, and rave, / They are thy masters, thou their slave."

— Cotton, Nathaniel, the elder (1705-1788)

Date: 1752, 1791

"This home philosophy, you know, / Was priz'd some thousand years ago. / Then why abroad a frequent guest? / Why such a stranger to your breast?"

— Cotton, Nathaniel, the elder (1705-1788)

Date: 1752, 1791

"Life's records rise on ev'ry side, / And Conscience spreads those volumes wide; / Which faithful registers were brought / By pale-ey'd Fear and busy Thought. / Those faults which artful men conceal, / Stand here engrav'd with pen of steel, / By Conscience, that impartial scribe!"

— Cotton, Nathaniel, the elder (1705-1788)

Date: 1752

"The Spirit is active, and loves best to inhabit those Minds where it may meet with the most Work."

— Fielding, Henry (1707-1754)

Date: 1752

"So many tender Ideas crowded at once into my Mind, that, if I may use the Expression, they almost dissolved my Heart."

— Fielding, Henry (1707-1754)

Date: 1752

"Whereas in the Bosom of Mrs. Ellison all was Storm and Tempest; Anger, Revenge, Fear, and Pride, like so many raging Furies, possessed her Mind, and tortured her with Disappointment and Shame."

— Fielding, Henry (1707-1754)

Date: 1752

"All the Reasons on which she had founded her Love, recurred in the strongest and liveliest Colours to her Mind, and all the Causes of her Hatred sunk down and disappeared; or if the least Remembrance of any thing which had disobliged her remained, her Heart became his zealous Advocate, and soon ...

— Fielding, Henry (1707-1754)

Date: 1752

"A thousand tender Ideas crowded into my Mind"

— Fielding, Henry (1707-1754)

Date: 1752

"O Heavens! how a thousand little Circumstances crowd into my Mind"

— Fielding, Henry (1707-1754)

Date: 1753

"Though the soul, like a hermit in his cell, sits quiet in the bosom, unruffled by any tempest of its own, it suffers from the rude blasts of others faults"

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