I Suppose It Was A Romantic Was

The Woods Are Never Solitary — They Are Full Of Whispering, Beckoning, Friendly Life. But The Sea Is A Mighty Soul, Forever Moaning Of Some Great, Unshareable Sorrow, Which Shuts It Up Into Itself For All Eternity. We Can Never Pierce Its Infinite Mystery — We May Only Wander, Awed And Spellbound, On The Outer Fringe Of It. The Woods Call To Us With A Hundred Voices, But The Sea Has One Only — A Mighty Voice.

The Woods Call To Us With A Hundred Voices, But The Sea Has One Only — A Mighty Voice That Drowns Our Souls In Its Majestic Music. The Woods Are Human, But The Sea Is Of The Company Of The Archangels.

For There Is No Bond More Lasting Than That Formed By The Mutual Confidences Of That Magic Time When Youth Is Slipping From The Sheath Of Childhood And Beginning To Wonder What Lies For It Beyond Those Misty Hills That Bound The Golden Road.

She Looked Like A Head-on Collision Between A Fashion Plate And A Nightmare.

She Had Looked Her Duty Courageously In The Face And Found It A Friend - As Duty Ever Is When We Meet It Frankly.