Date: 1682

"Our Passions are nothing else but certain Disallowable Motions of the Mind; Sudden, and Eager; which, by Frequency, and Neglect, turn to a Disease; as a Distillation brings us first to a Cough, and then to a Phthisick."

— L'Estrange, Sir Roger (1616-1704)

Date: 1682

"We are carry'd Up to the Heavens, and Down again into the Deep, by Turns; so long as we are govern'd by our Affections, and not by Virtue: Passion, and Reason, are a kind of Civil War within us; and as the one, or the other has Dominion, we are either Good, or Bad."

— L'Estrange, Sir Roger (1616-1704)

Date: 1682

"Betwixt violent Passion, and a Fluctuation, or Wambling of the Mind, there is such a Difference, as betwixt the Agitation of a Storm, and the Nauseous Sickness of a Calm."

— L'Estrange, Sir Roger (1616-1704)

Date: 1682

"There are sown the Seeds of Divine Things in Mortal Bodies. If the Mind be well Cultivated, the Fruit answers the Original; and, if not, all runs into Weeds."

— L'Estrange, Sir Roger (1616-1704)

Date: 1682

"It may be some Question, whether such a Man goes to Heaven, or Heaven comes to Him: For a good Man is Influenc'd, by God himself; and has a kind of Divinity within him."

— L'Estrange, Sir Roger (1616-1704)

Date: Wednesday, April 30, 1712

"Oh! Love has Fetters stronger far: / By Bolts of Steel are Limbs confined, / But cruel Love enchains the Mind."

— Philips, Ambrose (1674-1749)

Date: 1788-89

"According to Mr. Locke, the soul is a mere rasa tabula, an empty recipient, a mechanical blank."

— Taylor, Thomas (1758-1835)

Date: 1788-89

"According to Plato, she [the soul] is an ever-written tablet, a plenitude of forms, a vital and intellectual energy."

— Taylor, Thomas (1758-1835)

Date: 1788-89

"On the former system, she [the soul] is on a level with the most degraded natures, the receptacle of material species, and the spectator of delusion and non-entity."

— Taylor, Thomas (1758-1835)

Date: 1788-89

The soul is "Like a man between sleeping and waking, her visions are turbid and confused, and the phantoms of a material night, continually glide before her drowsy eye."

— Taylor, Thomas (1758-1835)