The stars are far brighter Than gems without measure, The moon is far whiter Than silver in treasure; The fire is more shining On hearth in the gloaming Than gold won by mining, So why go a-roaming? O! Tra-la-la-lally Come back to the Valley.
Fantasy remains a human right: we make in our measure and in our derivative mode, because we are made: and not only made, but made in the image and likeness of a Maker.
It was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort.
Let this be the hour when we draw swords together. Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath, now for ruin, and the red dawn. Forth, Eorlingas!
Then hope unlooked-for came so suddenly to Eomer’s heart, and with it the bite of care and fear renewed, that he said no more, but turned and went swiftly from the hall.
And it is not always good to be healed in body. Nor is it always evil to die in battle, even in bitter pain. Were I permitted, in this dark hour I would choose the latter.
Already he was a very different hobbit from the one that had run out without a pocket-handkerchief from Bag-End long ago. He had not had a pocket-handkerchief for ages.
Hobbits are an unobtrusive but very ancient people, more numerous formerly than they are today; for they love peace and quiet and good tilled earth: a well-ordered and well-farmed countryside was their favourite haunt.
To be a cult figure in one’s own lifetime is most unpleasant.
We are plain quiet folk, and I have no use for adventures. Nasty, disturbing, and uncomfortable things.
I can’t be the Ring-bearer. Not without Mr. Frodo!
The greater part of the truth is always hidden, in regions out of the reach of cynicism.
A year shall I endure for every day that passes until you return.
The Resurrection is the eucatastrophe of the story of the Incarnation – This story begins and ends in joy.
Gandalf: Three hundred lives of men I have walked this earth and now I have no time.
I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have seen, of meadow-flowers and butterflies in summers that have been; Of yellow leaves and gossamer in autumns that there were, with morning mist and silver sun and wind upon my hair.
What has roots as nobody sees, Is taller than trees Up, up it goes, And yet never grows? A mountain.
Things will go as they will, and there is no need to hurry to meet them.
There is little or no magic about them, except the ordinary everyday sort which helps them to disappear quietly and quickly when large stupid folk like you and me come blundering along, making a noise like elephants which they can hear a mile off.
Dwarves are not heroes, but a calculating folk with a great idea of the value of money; some are tricky and treacherous and pretty bad lots; some are not but are decent enough people like Thorin and Company, if you don’t expect too much.