Date: 1796

"Does not the hope of that fill our universities with blockheads--and cram our courts full of barristers, with heads as empty as they leave their clients' pockets?"

— Morton, Thomas (1764-1838)

Date: 1796

"Behold the wretch, who from that cavern [a madhouse?--"Sad habitation of the lost, insane"] flies, / Hell in his heart, destruction in his eyes"

— Merry, Robert (1755-1798)

Date: February 2, 1796

"But hope is the string that rides a sailor's heart--So, heave a-head, my lads."

— Hoare, Prince (1755-1834)

Date: February 2, 1796

"Her heart's like a lemon, so nice, / She carves for each lover a slice."

— Hoare, Prince (1755-1834)

Date: 1796

"Say, ye who balance things in reason's scale, / Does Magnanimity soar a pitch more high, / When Majesty listens to a trifler's tale?-- / Or when Humanity scorns to hurt a fly?"

— Bishop, Samuel (1731-1795)

Date: 1796

"'Your son,' concluded he, 'will quickly put off his dirty dress—The dress hath not stained the mind—that is fair and honourable.""

— Edgeworth, Maria

Date: w. 1788-93, 1796 (rev. 1815, 1827, 1837, 1897)

"My personal freedom had been somewhat impaired by the House of Commons and the Board of Trade; but I was now delivered from the chain of duty and dependence, from the hopes and fears of political adventure: my sober mind was no longer intoxicated by the fumes of party, and I rejoiced in my escap...

— Gibbon, Edward (1737-1794)

Date: w. 1788-93, 1796 (rev. 1815, 1827, 1837, 1897)

"By many, conversation is esteemed as a theatre or a school: but, after the morning has been occupied by the labours of the library, I wish to unbend rather than to exercise my mind; and in the interval between tea and supper I am far from disdaining the innocent amusement of a game at cards."

— Gibbon, Edward (1737-1794)

Date: 1796

"And oft in WIT you're cheated there, / As you're deceiv'd in Wedgewood Ware."

— Courtenay, John Lees (1775?-1794)

Date: 1796

"Your stanzas must not only chime, / But sense refin'd keep pace with rhime, / As with their paste, Cooks raisins mingle, / Rich thoughts must knead with sterile jingle."

— Courtenay, John Lees (1775?-1794)