Date: 1778, 1779

"But I will not afflict you with the melancholy phantasms of my brain."

— Burney [married name D'Arblay], Frances (1752-1840)

Date: 1778, 1779

"Never! O Miss Anville, how cruel, how piercing to my soul is that icy word!"

— Burney [married name D'Arblay], Frances (1752-1840)

Date: 1778, 1779

"Stung to the soul, I bid them have but a day's patience, and flung from them, in a state of mind too terrible for description."

— Burney [married name D'Arblay], Frances (1752-1840)

Date: 1778, 1779

"I would fain encourage more chearful thoughts, fain drive from my mind the melancholy that has taken possession of it."

— Burney [married name D'Arblay], Frances (1752-1840)

Date: 1778, 1779

"but it was not time, it was not the knowledge of his worth, obtained your regard; your new comrade had not patience to wait any trial; her glowing pencil, dipt in the vivid colours of her creative ideas, painted to you, at the moment of your first acquaintance, all the excellencies, all the good...

— Burney [married name D'Arblay], Frances (1752-1840)

Date: 1778, 1779

"'You know not what you ask,' cried he; 'the emotions which now rend my soul are more than my reason can endure: suffer me, then, to leave you,--impute it not to unkindness, but think of me as well as thou canst.'"

— Burney [married name D'Arblay], Frances (1752-1840)

Date: 1779

"My mind's in equipoise, ready alike / To hold thee as my Lover, or my Foe!"

— Cowley [née Parkhouse], Hannah (1743-1809)

Date: 1779

"Those minds imbued by vice, with deepest stains, / Are often mask'd in forms almost divine-- / Deck'd forth in words, and looks, that Virtue's self / Might challenge for her own."

— Cowley [née Parkhouse], Hannah (1743-1809)

Date: 1779

"If right I read, your mind in balance hangs / 'Twixt the opposing principles of good / And ill."

— Cowley [née Parkhouse], Hannah (1743-1809)

Date: 1777, 1780

"He made but little reply; but the impression sunk deep into his rancorous heart; every word in Edmund's behalf was like a poisoned arrow that rankled in the wound, and grew every day more inflamed."

— Reeve, Clara (1729-1807)