But where shall I find courage?’ asked Frodo. ‘That is what I chiefly need.’ ‘Courage is found in unlikely places,’ said Gildor. ‘Be of good hope! Sleep.
Who are you, Master?’ he asked. ‘Eh, what?’ said Tom sitting up, and his eyes glinting in the gloom. ‘Don’t you know my name yet? That’s the only answer. Tell me, who are you, alone, yourself and nameless?
I did not hinder it, for generous deed should not be checked by cold counsel. It.
Perhaps you could call her perilous, because she’s so strong in herself. You, you could dash yourself to pieces on her, like a ship on a rock.
The Lonely Mountain! Bilbo had come far and through many adventures to see it, and now he didn’t like the look of it in the least.
There in the last end of Egladil upon the green grass the parting feast was held; but Frodo ate and drank little, heeding only the beauty of the Lady and her voice. She seemed no longer perilous or terrible, nor filled with hidden power. Already she seemed to him, as by men of later days Elves still at times are seen: present and yet remote, a living vision of that which has already been left far behind by the flowing streams of Time.
I wasted my time, he said, ’though the hours seemed pleasant. But all such things are short-lived; and the joy in the making is their old true end, I guess.
I brought him, and I don’t bring things that are of no use.
The Silmarillion’ was intended to move the heart and the imagination, directly, and without peculiar effort or the possession of unusual faculties; but its mode is inherent, and it may be doubted whether any ‘approach’ to it can greatly aid those who find it unapproachable.
There are no words left to express his staggerment, since Men changed the language that they learned of elves in the days when all the world was wonderful.
Just chance brought me then, if chance you call it. It was no plan of mine, though I was waiting for you.
Though slow to quarrel, and for sport killing nothing that lived, they were doughty at bay, and at need could still handle arms.
They had begun to forget: forget their own beginnings and legends, forget what little they had known about the greatness of the world. It was not yet gone, but it was getting buried: the memory of the high and the perilous. But you cannot teach that sort of thing to a whole people quickly. There was not time. And anyway you must begin at some point, with some one person. I dare say he was “chosen” and I was only chosen to choose him; but I picked out Bilbo.
Bombur was now so fat that he could not move himself from his couch to his chair at table, and it took six young dwarves to lift him.
Far off there was a great hill of shadow, and out of that shadow, which was its root, he saw the King’s Tree springing up, tower upon tower, into the sky, and its light was like the sun at noon; and it bore at once leaves and flowers and fruits uncounted, and not one was the same as any other that grew on The Tree.
A thing is about to happen which has not happened since the Elder Days: the Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong.
Bless us and splash us, my precioussss!
None and none! What I have left behind I count now no loss; needless baggage on the road it has proved. Let those that cursed my name, curse me still, and whine their way back to the cages of the Valar! Let the ships burn!
Don’t trust your head, Samwise, it is not the best part of you.
In that hour of trial it was the love of his master that helped most to hold him firm; but also deep down in him lived still unconquered his plain hobbit sense: he knew in the core of his heart that he was not large enough to bear such a burden, even if such visions were not a mere cheat to betray him. The one small garden of a free gardener was all his need and due, not a garden swollen to a realm; his own hands to use, not the hands of others to command.