Date: 1819
"If he was arbitrary and a tyrant, first, France as a country was in a state of military blockade, on garrison-duty, and not to be defended by mere paper bullets of the brain; secondly, but chief, he was not, nor he could not become, a tyrant by right divine."
preview | full record— Hazlitt, William (1778-1830)
Date: 1819
"He is styed in his prejudices -- he wallows in the mire of his senses -- he cannot get beyond the trough of his sordid appetites, whether it is of gold or wood."
preview | full record— Hazlitt, William (1778-1830)
Date: 1820
"How to entangle, trammel up and snare / Your soul in mine, and labyrinth you there / Like the hid scent in an unbudded rose?"
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1820
"When from the slope side of a suburb hill, / Deafening the swallow's twitter, came a thrill / Of trumpets--Lycius started--the sounds fled, / But left a thought, a buzzing in his head."
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1820
"Good bye, I wish you a wiser master--a jailor' heart should be like you--iron."
preview | full record— Morton, Thomas (1764-1838)
Date: 1820
"When I meet with a proposition beyond finite comprehension, I abandon it as I do a weight which human strength cannot lift, and I think ignorance, in these cases, is truly the softest pillow on which I can lay my head."
preview | full record— Jefferson, Thomas (1743-1826)
Date: August 16, 1820
"And is not this extraordina[r]y talk for the writer of Endymion? whose mind was like a pack of scattered cards--I am pick'd up and sorted to a pip."
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1820
"[A]nd she began to moan and sigh / Because he mused beyond her, knowing well / That but a moment's thought is passion's passing bell."
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1820
"How will thy soul, cloven to its depth with terror, / Gape like a hell within!"
preview | full record— Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)
Date: 1820
"Yet am I king over myself, and rule / The torturing and conflicting throngs within, / As Jove rules you when Hell grows mutinous."
preview | full record— Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)