Date: 1754

"And now with triumphant voices the Cry broke forth into a loud huzza; declaring, that they were not ignorant who these strangers were, that had enter'd Portia's breast."

— Fielding, Sarah (1710-1768) and Jane Collier (bap. 1715, d. 1755)

Date: 1758

Here lurks DISTEMPER's horrid train / And there the PASSIONS lift their flaming brands; / These with fell rage my helpless body tear, / While those, with daring hands, / Against th' immortal soul their impious weapons rear."

— Mulso [later Chapone], Hester (1727-1801)

Date: 1758

"Within MYSELF does Virtue dwell? / Is all serene and beauteous there? / What mean these chilling damps of fear? "

— Mulso [later Chapone], Hester (1727-1801)

Date: 1758

"In every Feast remember, that there are two Guests to be entertained, the Body, and the Soul: and that what you give the Body, you presently lose; but what you give the Soul, remains for ever."

— Carter, Elizabeth (1717-1806)

Date: 1759

"Even this Piece of Wisdom did not find its Way into his Mind by Reflexion (that Passage for its Entrance had long been too closely barricadoed), but came in at his Eyes, and engaged his constant Counsellors, his Inclinations, on the Side of a fair Object he had accidentally beheld, at the House ...

— Fielding, Sarah (1710-1768)

Date: 1759

"A Stranger, and a Foreigner to her Bosom (Self-applause) was joyfully welcomed home, and embraced"

— Fielding, Sarah (1710-1768)

Date: w. 1739, 1762

"Come Melancholy! silent Pow'r, / Companion of my lonely Hour, / To sober thought confin'd: / Thou sweetly-sad ideal Guest, / In all thy soothing Charms confest, / Indulge my pensive Mind."

— Carter, Elizabeth (1717-1806)

Date: w. 1739, 1762

Melancholy's "transient Forms like Shadows pass, / Frail Offspring of the magic Glass, / Before the mental Eye."

— Carter, Elizabeth (1717-1806)

Date: w. 1748, 1762

"In Silence hush'd, to Reason's Voice, / Attends each mental Pow'r."

— Carter, Elizabeth (1717-1806)

Date: 1763

"This tender, this exquisite affection, has diffused a spirit through our whole lives, and given a charm to the most common occurrences; a charm to which the dulness of apathy, and the fever of guilty passion, are equally strangers."

— Brooke [née Moore], Frances (bap. 1724, d. 1789)