Don’t go where I can’t follow!
Seek for the Sword that was broken In Imladris it dwells; There shall be counsels taken Stronger than Morgul-spells. There shall be shown a token That Doom is near at hand, For Isuldur’s Bane shall waken, And the halfling forth shall stand.
O Elbereth! Gilthoniel! We still remember, we who dwell In this far land beneath the trees. Thy starlight on the Western Seas.
Here you find us sitting on a field of victory, amid the plunder of armies, and you wonder how we came by a few well-earned comforts!
Arrow! Black arrow! I have saved you to the last. You have never failed me and I have always recovered you. I had you from my father and he from of old. If ever you came from the forges of the true king under the Mountain, go now and speed well!
I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought.
My dear Frodo!’ exclaimed Gandalf. ‘Hobbits really are amazing creatures, as I have said before. You can learn all that there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years they can still surprise you at a pinch.
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
Faithful heart may have froward tongue.
To crooked eyes truth may wear a wry face.
The wide world is all about you: you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot for ever fence it out.
It is the way of my people to use light words at such times and say less than they mean. We fear to say too much. It robs us of the right words when a jest is out of place.
It is perilous to study too deeply the arts of the Enemy, for good or for ill.
O! Tril-lil-lil-lolly the valley is jolly, ha! ha! -Elves of Rivendell.
Indeed in nothing is the power of the Dark Lord more clearly shown than in the estrangement that divides all those who still oppose him.
All’s well that ends better.
To whatever end. Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? They have passed like rain on the mountains. Like wind in the meadow. The days have gone down in the west. Behind the hills, into shadow. How did it come to this?
May the hair on your toes never fall out!
That’s the only place in all the lands we’ve ever heard of that we don’t want to see any closer; and that’s the one place we’re trying to get to! And that’s just where we can’t get, nohow.
I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations...