So The Storm Passed And Every One

But The Beginning Of Things, Of A World Especially, Is Necessarily Vague, Chaotic, And Exceedingly Disturbing. How Few Of Us Ever Emerge From Such Beginning! How Many Souls Perish In Its Tumult! The Voice Of The Sea Is Seductive; Never Ceasing, Whispering, Clamoring, Murmuring, Inviting The Soul To Wander For A Spell In Abysses Of Solitude; To Lose Itself In Mazes Of Inward Contemplation. The Voice Of The Sea Speaks To The Soul. The Touch Of The Sea Is Sensuous, Enfolding The Body In Its Soft, Close Embrace.

And Nature Takes No Account Of Moral Consequences, Of Arbitrary Conditions Which We Create, And Which We Feel Obliged To Maintain At Any Cost.

I Trust It Will Not Be Giving Away Professional Secrets To Say That Many Readers Would Be Surprised, Perhaps Shocked, At The Questions Which Some Newspaper Editors Will Put To A Defenseless Woman Under The Guise Of Flattery.

The Voice Of The Sea Speaks To The Soul.

She's Got Some Sort Of Notion In Her Head Concerning The Eternal Rights Of Women.