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It cannot be seen, cannot be felt, Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt, It lies behind stars and under hills, And empty holes it fills, It comes first and follows after, Ends life, kills laughter.
J. R. R. Tolkien
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J. R. R. Tolkien
Age: 81 †
Born: 1892
Born: January 3
Died: 1973
Died: September 2
Author
Essayist
Historian
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Literary Critic
Military Officer
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John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
John R. R. Tolkien
J-R-R Tolkien
Tolkien
J.R.R. Tolkien
J. R. R. Tolkien
Felt
Lies
Riddle
Cannot
Behinds
Fills
Ends
Behind
Kills
Firsts
Seen
Follows
First
Heard
Hills
Life
Stars
Holes
Lying
Laughter
Comes
Empty
Smelt
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We set out to save the Shire, Sam and it has been saved - but not for me.
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The Nazgul they were the Ringwraiths, the Enemy's most terribly servants darkness went with them and they cried with the voices of death.
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The war made me poignantly aware of the beauty of the world.
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Don't leave me here alone! It's your Sam calling. Don't go where I can't follow! Wake up, Mr. Frodo!
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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.
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Let the unseen days be. Today is more than enough.
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If you mean you think it is my job to go into the secret passage first, O Thorin Thrain’s son Oakenshield, may your beard grow ever longer,” he said crossly, “say so at once and have done!
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What does your heart tell you?
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Venice seemed incredibly lovely, elvishly lovely--to me like a dream of Old Gondor, or Pelargir of the Numenorean Ships, before the return of the Shadow.
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Memory is not what the heart desires. That is only a mirror, be it clear as Kheled-zaram. Or so says the heart of Gimli the Dwarf.
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May the hair on your toes never fall out!
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Come, Mr. Frodo!' he cried. 'I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you.
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grows like a seed in the dark out of the leaf-mould of the mind: out of all that has been seen or thought or read, that has long ago been forgotten, descending into the deeps.
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Gandalf! I thought you were dead! But then I thought I was dead myself. Is everything sad going to come untrue? What's happened to the world?
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Over the field rang his clear voice calling: ‘Death! Ride, ride to ruin and the world’s ending!
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The rule of no realm is mine. But all worthy things that are in peril as the world now stands, those are my care. And for my part, I shall not wholly fail in my task if anything that passes through this night can still grow fairer or bear fruit and flower again in days to come. For I too am a steward. Did you not know?
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The Resurrection was the greatest ‘eucatastrophe’ possible in the greatest Fairy Story — and produces that essential emotion: Christian joy which produces tears because it is qualitatively so like sorrow, because it comes from those places where Joy and Sorrow are at one, reconciled, as selfishness and altruism are lost in Love.
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I was talking aloud to myself. A habit of the old: they choose the wisest person present to speak to
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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?
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Valour needs first strength, then a weapon.
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