Date: 1776

"I am provoked at this natural incapacity of conveying my sentiments to you; words are but a cloak, or rather a clog, to our ideas; there should be no curtain before the hearts of friends; and the longing I have ever felt for an intuitive converse, is to me a strong argument for a future state."

— Griffith, Elizabeth (1720-1793)

Date: 1776

"Alarmed as all my passions were, her gentle accents vibrated upon my heart, and calmed each throbbing pulse."

— Griffith, Elizabeth (1720-1793)

Date: 1776

"I have been long labouring to consider this idol of my heart as misers do their hidden treasure; though hopeless of enjoying it, yet while I thought 'twas safe, I could not look upon myself undone."

— Griffith, Elizabeth (1720-1793)

Date: 1776

"My eyes are closed to beauty; I only feel its power, when I turn them inward, and gaze upon the image in my heart."

— Griffith, Elizabeth (1720-1793)

Date: 1776

"O Charles! the treasures of my Lucy's mind have been concealed till now; beneath the mask of gaiety she hid the tenderest, noblest feelings of the heart, the justest sentiments, and the most perfect female understanding."

— Griffith, Elizabeth (1720-1793)

Date: 1776

"Can you, my once dear friend, without abhorrence, think of her who robbed you of a brother, and was the unhappy cause his pure and spotless soul was stained with blood?"

— Griffith, Elizabeth (1720-1793)

Date: 1777

"The consciousness of what I mean by this letter to reveal, hangs like guilt upon my mind; therefore it is that I have so long delayed writing."

— Mackenzie, Henry (1745-1831)

Date: 1777

"Savillon's family, indeed, was not so noble as his mind; my father warmly acknowledged the excellence of the last; but he had been taught, from earliest infancy, to consider a misfortune the want of the former."

— Mackenzie, Henry (1745-1831)

Date: 1777

"Images of vengeance and destruction paint themselves to my mind, when I think of his discovering that weakness which I cannot hide from myself."

— Mackenzie, Henry (1745-1831)

Date: 1777

"Your mind, child, (continued my mother) is too tender; I fear it is, for this bad world."

— Mackenzie, Henry (1745-1831)