Date: 1770

The master-passion may be concealed "but on great occasions,... It will break forth, and loudly tell the world / What fermentation often works the soul"

— Stockdale, Percival (1736-1811)

Date: 1770

"These objects banish care, they set us loose / From mean attachments, and compose our souls / For fine impressions, and for heavenly airs:"

— Stockdale, Percival (1736-1811)

Date: 1770

"Sylvia, if you persist to steel your heart, / Expect a mansion in that dire abode."

— Stockdale, Percival (1736-1811)

Date: 1770

"Mean while, the duties of a man revolve, / And steel thy bosom with the firm resolve"

— Stockdale, Percival (1736-1811)

Date: 1770

"Destructive eyes, false mirrors of the heart! / I, to my sorrow know the lies you've told me."

— Stockdale, Percival (1736-1811)

Date: 1770

"I could not look upon his mangled corse: / I saw his mangled corse in my mind's eye."

— Stockdale, Percival (1736-1811)

Date: 1772

"No inference can give a juster idea of Des Cartes's doctrine of automata, than Mr. Regis's comparison of some hydraulic machines, to be seen in certain grottos and fountains, that serve as ornaments to the splendid mansions of the great; where water exerts itself by the disposition of the pipes,...

— Anonymous

Date: 1774, rev. 1787, 1779 in English

"What is the whole world to our hearts without love? It is the optic machine of the Savoyards without light." [More literal translation: "Wilhelm, what would the world mean to our hearts without love! What is a magic lantern without its lamp!"]

— Goethe, Johann Wolfgang (1749-1832)

Date: 1774, rev. 1787, 1779 in English

"Oh! that I could express, that I could describe, these great conceptions, with the same warmth, with the same energy, that they are impressed on my soul!" [Literal translation: "Oh could you only express, could you the breathe forth upon this paper all that lives so warm and full, that it might ...

— Goethe, Johann Wolfgang (1749-1832)

Date: 1774, rev. 1787, 1779 in English

"Solitude in this terrestrial paradise is a medicine to my mind. The delight of spring touches my heart, and gives fresh vigour to my soul."

— Goethe, Johann Wolfgang (1749-1832)