Date: 1691

"As for the Loves of these Villagers, the Intriegues of their Amours are not a little remarkable, they being very pretty Animals when disguis'd with that Passion: They are Tinder to such Flames, being quickly set on fire, even by the least spark, which when it hath catch'd the Match of their Soul...

— Dunton, John (1659–1732)

Date: 1691

"Observe again, how greedily their Souls, keeping Sentinel in their Ears, lye and catch for words; and how their Souls, in a perpetual emanation gliding from their Eyes, waste themselves in passionate Glances, and suffer many a faint Swoon with gazing."

— Dunton, John (1659–1732)

Date: 1691

"I confess my Mind (the nobler part of me) now and then takes a walk in the large Campaign of Heaven, and there I contemplate the Universe, the Mysterious Concatenation of Causes, and the stupendious Efforts of the Almighty, in consideration whereof I can chearfully bid adieu to the World."

— Dunton, John (1659–1732)

Date: 1691

"The Peasant and the Crowned Head, / The same dark Path must tread, / And in the same cold Earth both undistinguisht lie; / (Whilest the sad Soul her Voyage takes / Through gloomy Fens, and Stygian Lakes, / Unable to procure a longer stay, / Into Eternal Exile sails away.)"

— Dunton, John (1659–1732)

Date: 1691

"Sometimes he describ'd the Humors of the Greenwich Usurers, who, as he exprest it, had Hearts of Marble and Entrals of Brass."

— Dunton, John (1659–1732)

Date: 1691

"Let none hereafter dare to blame / The Gods, for making Cupid blind / Lest his offence he plagu'd with shame / And all Mens hate, besiege his mind."

— Dunton, John (1659–1732)

Date: 1691

"I made answer thus; Because she was made of Adam's Flesh when he was asleep; secondly, she was made of his Rib, the Rib lies near to the Heart, the Heart is Master of Thoughts, and Thoughts beget Words."

— Dunton, John (1659–1732)

Date: 1691

"This made my Heart dance the Canaries in my Breast without the help of a Violin."

— Dunton, John (1659–1732)

Date: 1691

"So that here by a dear-bought Experience, I found, that the wandering Fancy of Man (nay, that even Life it self) is a it were but a meer Ramble or Fegary after the drag of something that doth itchifie our Senses, which when we have hunted home, we find nothing but a meer delusion."

— Dunton, John (1659–1732)

Date: 1691

"The Sense deceivs us, and like Painted Glass / Tinges all Objects, that do thrô it pass."

— Heyrick, Thomas (bap. 1649. d. 1694)