Date: 1820

"'Tis in that hour the mind receives ... The best impression virtue gives."

— Combe, William (1742 -1823)

Date: 1820

"The memoranda of the mind, Which on the inmost page so white, The ready pencil might indite.* "Take this," she said, "and when your thought* Is with a sudden image fraught,*--Inscribe it here and let it live, Nor be a hasty fugitive:*It thence may gain a passage free

— Combe, William (1742 -1823)

Date: 1820

Yet he ne'er vainly strove to steel [...] His heart, and bid him not to feel, / But yielded to what Heav'n thought fit"

— Combe, William (1742 -1823)

Date: 1820

"Were there a window in my breast, / The keenest eye I should not fear T'indulge its curious prying there."

— Combe, William (1742 -1823)

Date: 1820

"He could call forth to his mind's eye, That bright, select society, / Who never, when he ask'd their aid, The pleasing summons disobey'd, / But did the lengthen'd way beguile / Full many an hour and many a mile."

— Combe, William (1742 -1823)

Date: 1820

"And they [Stewart, Tracy, Cabanis] ask why may not the mode of action called thought, have been given to a material organ of peculiar structure, as that of magnetism is to the needle, or of elasticity to the spring by a particular manipulation of the steel."

— Jefferson, Thomas (1743-1826)

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."

— Jefferson, Thomas (1743-1826)

Date: 1820

"O, that the wise from their bright minds would kindle / Such lamps within the dome of this dim world, / That the pale name of PRIEST might shrink and dwindle / Into the hell from which it first was hurled, / A scoff of impious pride from fiends impure; / Till human thoughts might kneel alone, / ...

— Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)

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."

— Keats, John (1795-1821)

Date: August 16, 1820

"My Imagination is a Monastery and I am its Monk--you must explain my metap^cs to yourself."

— Keats, John (1795-1821)