When One Has Got To

The Ocean Has The Conscienceless Temper Of A Savage Autocrat Spoiled By Much Adulation

Some Of Us, Regarding The Ocean With Understanding And Affection, Have Seen It Looking Old, As If The Immemorial Ages Had Been Stirred Up From The Undisturbed Bottom Of Ooze. For It Is A Gale Of Wind That Makes The Sea Look Old.

A Certain Simplicity Of Thought Is Common To Serene Souls At Both Ends Of The Social Scale.

The East Wind, An Interloper In The Dominions Of Westerly Weather, Is An Impassive-faced Tyrant With A Sharp Poniard Held Behind His Back For A Treacherous Stab.

The Mind Of Man Is Capable Of Anything.