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Date: 1791, 1794

"Oh! never, never! whilst I have existence, will the agony of that moment be erased from my memory."

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

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Date: 1791, 1794

"My daily employment is to think of you and weep, to pray for your happiness and deplore my own folly: my nights are scarce more happy, for if by chance I close my weary eyes, and hope some small forgetfulness of sorrow, some little time to pass in sweet oblivion, fancy, still waking, wafts me ho...

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

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Date: 1791, 1794

"The name, like a sudden spark of electric fire, seemed for a moment to suspend his faculties--for a moment he was transfixed; but recovering, he caught Belcour's hand, and cried--'Stop! stop! I beseech you, name not the lovely Julia and the wretched Montraville in the same breath."

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

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Date: 1791, 1794

"'I am bad company, Miss Franklin,' said he, at last recollecting himself; 'but I have met with something to-day that has greatly distressed me, and I cannot shake off the disagreeable impression it has made on my mind.'"

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

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Date: 1791, 1794

"[B]ut the poor girl by thoughtless passion led astray, who, in parting with her honour, has forfeited the esteem of the very man to whom she has sacrificed every thing dear and valuable in life, feels his indifference in the fruit of her own folly, and laments her want of power to recall his los...

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

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Date: 1791, 1794

"Even now imagination paints the scene, when, torn by contending passions, when, struggling between love and duty, you fainted in my arms, and I lifted you into the chaise."

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

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Date: 1791, 1794

"Sometimes a gleam of hope would play about her heart when she thought of her parents--'They cannot surely,' she would say, 'refuse to forgive me; or should they deny their pardon to me, they win not hate my innocent infant on account of its mother's errors.'"

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

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Date: 1791, 1794

"For Charlotte, the soul melts with sympathy; for La Rue, it feels nothing but horror and contempt."

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

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Date: 1791, 1794

"Pardon me, ye dear spirits of benevolence, whose benign smiles and chearful-giving hand have strewed sweet flowers on many a thorny path through which my way-ward fate forced me to pass; think not, that, in condemning the unfeeling texture of the human heart, I forget the spring from whence flow...

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

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Date: April 30, 2014

"It is because you have maggots for a soul, you fucking barbarian."

— Pierce, Charles P. (b. December 28, 1953)

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The Mind is a Metaphor is authored by Brad Pasanek, Assistant Professor of English, University of Virginia.