Date: 1701

"Stand by ye Fools--That noble Theam's my share,/ Farce is a Strain too low to court the Fair; / When to that pitch your Thoughts attempt to fly, / Like unskill'd Icarus you soar too high."

— Baker, Thomas (b. 1680-1)

Date: 1701

"That Opinion, Tremilia, denotes a diseas'd Mind, which is as naturally averse to every thing that's pleasant, and agreeable, as a Diseas'd Body is to wholsom Food."

— Baker, Thomas (b. 1680-1)

Date: 1701

"Contemplation is but an Overture to Madness, a discontented Temper renders the World Odious; and Melancholy, like Sleep, steals insensibly upon our Spirits; and when Solitude has contracted our Thoughts into a too serious Meditation, we fall into a Labyrinth of foolish Notions, that quite craze ...

— Baker, Thomas (b. 1680-1)

Date: 1701

"No, Sir, Love is the greatest Enemy to Conversation, for even with the Young 'tis reckon'd a Disease of the Mind, but when the Old are seiz'd, 'tis a Sign of some very great Indisposition, and the Sentiments of craz'd People are seldom very extraordinary."

— Baker, Thomas (b. 1680-1)

Date: 1701

"'Tis you handsom Mercers that wound all the Ladies Hearts."

— Baker, Thomas (b. 1680-1)

Date: 1701

"How faint a Passion is Friendship, or that of Kindred, sick and wavering, like the Moon, when the Sunny Rays of Love dart into our Souls!"

— Baker, Thomas (b. 1680-1)

Date: 1701

"Love governs every Sense, every Affection, every Principle truckles to that more noble Passion."

— Baker, Thomas (b. 1680-1)

Date: 1701

"Beauty's the least prevailing Snare to me; tho' her great Soul makes me admire her Person; yet were she deform'd, Virtue, like the Sun, wou'd shine through every Cloud."

— Baker, Thomas (b. 1680-1)

Date: 1701

"Which are but tantalizing Amusements that debauch our Genius when they are once over, and Fatigue allows us a serious interval; with what regret do we reflect upon our Folly, in letting our Appetites govern our Reason, and like the Sirens Song charm us into Ruine."

— Baker, Thomas (b. 1680-1)

Date: 1701

"Thro' Heat of Youth, her Fancy vainly roves, / And she acts just as every Whimsy moves."

— Baker, Thomas (b. 1680-1)