Date: 1700

"Her Night-gown hanging loose, discover’d her charming Bosom, which cou’d bear no Name, but Transport, Wonder and Extasy, all which struck his Soul, as soon as the Object hit his Eye; her Breasts with an easy Heaving, show’d the Smoothness of her Soul and of her Skin; their Motions were so langui...

— Behn, Aphra (1640?-1689)

Date: 1700, 1703, 1709

"But left th'Impression deep upon my Mind / Of DUNCOMB honour'd, and AUGUSTA kind."

— Gould, Robert (b. 1660?, d. in or before 1709)

Date: 1700

"No shackling Rhyme chain'd the free Poets mind; / Majestick was his Style, and unconfin'd."

— Cobb, Samuel (bap. 1675, d. 1713)

Date: 1700, 1717

"He, tho' from Heav'n remote, to Heav'n cou'd move, / With Strength of Mind, and tread th' Abyss above; / And penetrate with his interior Light / Those upper Depths, which Nature hid from Sight"

— Dryden, John (1631-1700)

Date: 1700

"In short, taking it for granted, that we two understand one another by half a Word, I will set both his and my Imagination on the Ramble."

— Brown, Thomas (bap. 1663, d. 1704)

Date: 1700

"Or a Bartholomew-Baby Beau, newly Launch'd out of a Chocolate-House, with his Pockets as empty as his Brains."

— Brown, Thomas (bap. 1663, d. 1704)

Date: 1700

"Here walk'd a Fellow with a long white Rod on his Shoulder, that's asham'd to cry his Trade, though he gets his Living by it; another bawling out TODD's Four Volumes in Print, which a Man in Reading of, wou'd wonder that so much Venom should not tear him to pieces, but that some of the ancient M...

— Brown, Thomas (bap. 1663, d. 1704)

Date: 1700

"What does the World think of this holding up the Buckler, they put but a bad Construction upon it, and say that his Conscience is Ulcerated, that you cannot touch any String, but it will answer to some painful place."

— Brown, Thomas (bap. 1663, d. 1704)

Date: 1700

"The soul of government, as the true and perfect image of the soul of man, is every whit as necessarily religious as rational."

— Harrington, James (1611-1677)

Date: 1704

"Erect your schemes with as much method and skill as you please; yet, if the materials be nothing but dirt, spun out of your own entrails (the guts of modern brains), the edifice will conclude at last in a cobweb; the duration of which, like that of other spiders’ webs, may be imputed to their be...

— Swift, Jonathan (1667-1745)