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All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost.
The world has changed. I see it in the water. I feel it in the Earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was is lost, For none now live who remember it.
'I wish life was not so short,' he thought. 'Languages take such a time, and so do all the things one wants to know about.'
I don't know half of you half as well as I should like and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.
His house was perfect, whether you liked food, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking, best, or a pleasant mixture of them all.
I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence.
I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.
Many that live deserve death. And some die that deserve life. Can you give it to them Then be not too eager to deal out death in the name of justice, fearing for your own safety. Even the wise cannot see all ends.
Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends.
Nearly all marriages, even happy ones, are mistakes in the sense that almost certainly (in a more perfect world, or even with a little more care in this very imperfect one) both partners might be found more suitable mates. But the real soul-mate is the one you are actually married to.
Some who have read the book, or at any rate have reviewed it, have found it boring, absurd, or contemptible, and I have no cause to complain, since I have similar opinions of their works...
The Hobbits are just rustic English people, made small in size because it reflects the generally small reach of their imagination.
There I lay staring upward, while the stars wheeled over... Faint to my ears came the gathered rumour of all lands: the springing and the dying, the song and the weeping, and the slow everlasting groan of overburdened stone.
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