J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

But it does not seem that I can trust anyone, said Frodo. Sam looked at him unhappily. It all depends on what you want, put in Merry. You can trust us to stick with you through thick and thin to the bitter end. And you can trust us to keep any secret of yours closer than you keep it yourself. But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a word. We are your friends, Frodo.

Destroy | Land | Life | Life | Nature | Order | People | Slavery |

J. B. Priestly, fully John Boynton Priestly

No matter how piercing and appalling his insights, the desolation creeping over his outer world, the lurid lights and shadows of his inner world, the writer must live with hope, work in faith.

Joy | Light | Mind | Sense | Thinking | Thought | Time | Thought |

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

But the helm of her secrecy had fallen from her, and her bright hair, released from its bonds, gleamed with pale gold upon her shoulders. Her eyes grey as the sea were hard and fell, and yet tears were on her cheek. A sword was in her hand, and she raised her shield against the horror of her enemy's eyes? Still she did not blench: maiden of the Rohirrim, child of kings, slender but as a steel-blade, fair yet terrible. A swift stroke she dealt, skilled and deadly. The outstretched neck she clove asunder, and the hewn head fell like a stone. Backward she sprang as the huge shape crashed to ruin, vast wings outspread, crumpled on the earth; and with its fall the shadow passed away. A light fell about her, and her hair shone in the sunrise.

Ability | Better | People | Position | Space | World | Think | Understand |

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

I should say that, in addition to my tree-love (it was originally called The Tree), it arose from my own pre-occupation with the Lord of the Rings, the knowledge that it would be finished in great detail or not at all, and the fear (near certainty) that it would be 'not at all'. The war had arisen to darken all horizons. But no such analyses are a complete explanation even of a short story...

Gentleness | Good | Need | Religion | Story | Will | Understand |

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

Fare well we call to hearth and hall Though wind may blow and rain may fall We must away ere break of day Over the wood and mountain tall To Rivendell where Elves yet dwell In glades beneath the misty fell Through moor and waste we ride in haste And wither then we cannot tell With foes ahead behind us dread Beneath the sky shall be our bed Until at last our toil be sped Our journey done, our errand sped We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day!

Value |

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

I don?t like anything here at all. said Frodo, step or stone, breath or bone. Earth, air and water all seem accursed. But so our path is laid. Yes, that?s so, said Sam, And we shouldn?t be here at all, if we?d known more about it before we started. But I suppose it?s often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo, adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that?s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn?t. And if they had, we shouldn?t know, because they?d have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on, and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same; like old Mr Bilbo. But those aren?t always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of a tale we?ve fallen into? I wonder, said Frodo, But I don?t know. And that?s the way of a real tale. Take any one that you?re fond of. You may know, or guess, what kind of a tale it is, happy-ending or sad-ending, but the people in it don?t know. And you don?t want them to.

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

Far over the misty mountains cold to dungeons deep and caverns old we must away ere break of day to seek the pale enchanted gold. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, while hammers fell like ringing bells in places deep, where dark things sleep, in hollow halls beneath the fells. For ancient king and elvish lord there many a gleaming golden hoard they shaped and wrought, and light they caught to hide in gems on hilt of sword. On silver necklaces they strung the flowering stars, on crowns they hung the dragon-fire, in twisted wire they meshed the light of moon and sun. Far over the misty mountains cold to dungeons deep and caverns old we must away, ere break of day, to claim our long-forgotten gold. Goblets they carved there for themselves and harps of gold; where no man delves there lay they long, and many a song was sung unheard by men or elves. The pines were roaring on the height, the wind was moaning in the night. The fire was red, it flaming spread; the trees like torches blazed with light. The bells were ringing in the dale and men looked up with faces pale; the dragon's ire more fierce than fire laid low their towers and houses frail. The mountain smoked beneath the moon; the dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom. They fled their hall to dying fall beneath his feet, beneath the moon. Far over the misty mountains grim to dungeons deep and caverns dim we must away, ere break of day, to win our harps and gold from him!

Work |

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger; someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them...

Conversation | Energy | Life | Life | Order | Religion | Service | Understand |

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

If thou hadst thy will what wouldst thou reserve? said Manwe. Of all thy realm what dost thou hold dearest? All have their worth, said Yavanna, and each contributes to the worth of the others. But the kelvar can flee or defend themselves, whereas the olvar that grow cannot. And among these I hold trees dear. Long in the growing, swift shall they be in the felling, and unless they pay toll with fruit upon their bough little mourned in their passing. So I see in my thought, would that the trees might speak on behalf of all things that have roots, and punish those that wrong them!

Man | Need | Wise | Friends |

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

He loved mountains, or he had loved the thought of them marching on the edge of stories brought from far away; but now he was borne down by the insupportable weight of Middle-earth. He longed to shut out the immensity in a quiet room by a fire.

Innovation | Means | Need |