Date: 1751

"All the senses, like the family at Harlowe-Place, in a confederacy against that which would animate, and give honour to the whole, were it allowed its proper precedence"

— Richardson, Samuel (bap. 1689, d. 1761)

Date: 1751

"The eye, my dear, the wicked eye--has such a strict alliance with the heart--And both have such enmity to the judgment!"

— Richardson, Samuel (bap. 1689, d. 1761)

Date: 1751

Clarissa, if any "woman ever could, would have given a glorious instance of a passion conquered, or at least kept under, by Reason, and by Piety"

— Richardson, Samuel (bap. 1689, d. 1761)

Date: 1751

"If a passion can be conquered, it is a sacrifice a good child owes to indulgent parents"

— Richardson, Samuel (bap. 1689, d. 1761)

Date: 1751

The hand one writes may be "like her mind, solid and above all flourish"

— Richardson, Samuel (bap. 1689, d. 1761)

Date: 1751

"This, and to see a succession of Humble Servants buzzing about a Mother, who took too much pride in addresses of that kind, what a beginning, what an example, to a constitution of tinder, so prepared to receive the spark struck from the steely forehead, and flinty heart, of such a Libertine, as ...

— Richardson, Samuel (bap. 1689, d. 1761)

Date: 1751

"Tears gushing again, my heart fluttering as a bird against its wires; drying my eyes again and again to no purpose."

— Richardson, Samuel (bap. 1689, d. 1761)

Date: 1751

"I proceeded therefore--That I loved Familiar-letter-writing, as I had more than once told her, above all the species of writing: It was writing from the heart (without the fetters prescribed by method or study) as the very word 'Cor-respondence' implied"

— Richardson, Samuel (bap. 1689, d. 1761)

Date: 1751

"Nothing of body, when friend writes to friend; the mind impelling sovereignly the vassal-fingers."

— Richardson, Samuel (bap. 1689, d. 1761)

Date: 2010

"His cell was a concrete box six feet by ten with one window and a steel door with a slot wide enough to slip his hands through but that was all, and most of the time he just lay there on his cot, his mind so blank it was like a pail with nothing in it."

— Cronin, Justin