Date: 1766

"'Love', designs on the imagination, the flattering idea of eternal happiness, in the entire and constant possession of the object we 'love'. 'Gallantry', fails not to paint there the agreeable image of a singular pleasure, in the enjoyment of the object we pursue; but, neither the one, nor, the ...

— Trusler, John (1735-1820)

Date: 1766

"In 'love', it is the heart, which, principally, tastes the pleasure; the mind, making itself a slave, without any regard; and, the satisfaction of the senses, contributing less to the sweet enjoyment, than a certain contentedness of soul, which produces the charming idea, of being in the posses...

— Trusler, John (1735-1820)

Date: 1766

"When interest is predominant, it is sure to choak up all the avenues to the heart, which, would, otherwise be open to the cries of distress."

— Trusler, John (1735-1820)

Date: 1766, 1806

"Say, from thy mind canst thou so soon remove / The records pencil'd by the hand of love?"

— Jerningham, Edward (1727-1812)

Date: 1766, 1806

"Too fatal proof! since thou, with av'rice fraught, / Didst basely urge (ah! shun the wounding thought!) / That tender circumstance--reveal it not, / Lest torn with rage I curse my fated lot: / Lest startled Reason abdicate her reign, / And Madness revel in this heated brain."

— Jerningham, Edward (1727-1812)

Date: 1766, 1806

"From hands unscepter'd take the scornful blow? / Uproot the thoughts of glory as they grow?"

— Jerningham, Edward (1727-1812)

Date: 1766, 1808

"Nature, my friend, profuse in vain, / May every gift impart; / If unimprov'd, they ne'er can gain / An empire o'er the heart."

— Anstey, Christopher (1724-1805)

Date: 1766

Melancholy may "cloud the sunshine of my chearful breast"

— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)

Date: 1766

Melancholy may "round [one's] heart erect [her] ebon throne"

— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)

Date: 1766

Earthly pleasures are "Not meant by heav'n to perish unenjoy'd, / Or pass'd with scorn by superstitious pride; / Nor, grov'ling here, the brutal soul to chain, / Where happiness is still alloy'd with pain; / But there the soaring intellect to fix, / Where pain or sorrow ne'er with transport mix."

— Woodhouse, James (bap. 1735, d. 1820)