Date: 1748

"[B]ut now that I looked upon myself as a murderer, it is impossible to express the terrors of my imagination, which was incessantly haunted by the image of the deceased, and my bosom stung with the most exquisite agonies, of which I saw no end."

— Smollett, Tobias (1721-1777)

Date: 1748

"[A]nd in the mean time went to dress, with an intention of visiting Mrs. Snapper and Miss, whom I had utterly neglected and indeed almost forgot, since my dear Narcissa had resumed the empire of my soul."

— Smollett, Tobias (1721-1777)

Date: 1748

"Cæsar, Pompey, and Alexander the Great are continually in his mouth; and as he reads a good deal without any judgment to digest it, his ideas are confused, and his harrangues as unintelligible as infinite."

— Smollett, Tobias (1721-1777)

Date: 1748

"I now began to look upon myself as a gentleman in reality; learned to dance of a Frenchman whom I had cured of a fashionable distemper; frequented plays during the holidays; became the oracle of an ale-house, where every dispute was referred to my decision; and at length contracted an acquaintan...

— Smollett, Tobias (1721-1777)

Date: 1748

"I had made a conquest of her heart, and concluded myself the happiest man alive"

— Smollett, Tobias (1721-1777)

Date: 1748

"[U]nless my image had been engraven on her heart, it would have been impossible to know me for the person who had worn her aunt's livery"

— Smollett, Tobias (1721-1777)

Date: 1748

"[F]ond anxiety, the glowing hopes, and chilling fears" may "rule [the] breast by turns"

— Smollett, Tobias (1721-1777)

Date: 1748

"But my heart was so steel'd against her charms by pride and resentment, which were two chief ingredients in my disposition, that I remain'd insensible to all her arts"

— Smollett, Tobias (1721-1777)

Date: 1748

"My bosom had been hitherto a stranger to such a flood of joy as now rushed upon it: My faculties were overborn by the tide"

— Smollett, Tobias (1721-1777)

Date: 1748

"This observation, delivered with a profound sigh, made my heart throb with violence; a crowd of confused ideas rushed upon my imagination, which, while I endeavoured to unravel, my uncle perceived my absence of thought, and tapping me on the shoulder, said, "Oons! are you asleep, Rory!""

— Smollett, Tobias (1721-1777)