Date: April, 1783

"When we talk of a storehouse of our ideas, we are only forming an imagination of something similar to an enclosed portion of space in which material objects are reposited. But who ever actually saw this storehouse, or can have any clear perception of it when he endeavours by thinking closely to ...

— Boswell, James (1740-1795)

Date: April, 1783

"As, however, his penetration could not but see that all this is absolutely incompatible with a spiritual substance which mind is, he, immediately without any interruption or preparation whatever, proceeds very quietly, though most effectually, to contradict what he has been assuming, and to anni...

— Boswell, James (1740-1795)

Date: April, 1783

"And yet in my own mind I am not sure but there may be such, an analogy between the nature of spirit and that of matter, as to admit of a receptacle of ideas."

— Boswell, James (1740-1795)

Date: 1783

"Hence infinite space, endless numbers, and eternal duration, fill the mind with great ideas."

— Blair, Hugh (1718-1800)

Date: 1783

"It must be painted with such circumstances as fill the mind with great and awful ideas."

— Blair, Hugh (1718-1800)

Date: 1783

"If thoughts could occupy space, we might be tempted to think, that we had laid them up in certain cells or repositories, to remain there till we had occasion for them."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1783

"[W]hat Horace observes of words is equally true of thoughts ... every superfluity is lost, like water poured into a vessel already full."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1783

"These are some of the general heads, under which may be arranged the manifold treasures of human Memory."

— Beattie, James (1735-1803)

Date: 1784

"And hence it will follow, that with the foregoing exceptions, we may, among Europeans, bring genius to actual admeasurement, and determine its degrees by the size of the possessor's head, just as an exciseman gauges a beer barrel."

— Ramsay, James (1733-1789)

Date: 1784

"Blest is yon shepherd, on the turf reclin'd, / Who on the varied clouds which float above / Lies idly gazing--while his vacant mind / Pours out some tale antique of rural love!"

— Smith, Charlotte (1749-1806)