In youth, the voice was nothing more than an occasional whisper on the wind; a noise so faint and nearly imperceptible that is passed into unconsciousness. As a young adult the voice changed into a distant sound in the background of other sounds in the mind. In maturity the voice was a nearby whisper in the ear of the mind, if not the body itself. In decrepitude the voice was a raging scream that echoed constantly and had to be shouted out in vain attempts to silence it.