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Tomorrow we may come this way, And take the hidden paths that run Towards the Moon or to the Sun

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
Illustrator
Linguist
Literary Critic
Military Officer
Poet
Teacher
Translator
John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
John R. R. Tolkien
J-R-R Tolkien
Tolkien
J.R.R. Tolkien
J. R. R. Tolkien
Way
Sun
Moon
Tomorrow
Path
Running
May
Paths
Come
Hidden
Take
Towards

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And now leave me in peace for a bit! I don't want to answer a string of questions while I am eating. I want to think! Good Heavens! said Pippin. At breakfast?
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My armor is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death!
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I will not say, do not weep, for not all tears are an evil.
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Time doesn't seem to pass here: it just is.
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Is it nice, my preciousss? Is it juicy? Is it scrumptiously crunchable?
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There was a little corner of his mind that was still his own, and light came through it, as though a chink in the dark: light out of the past. It was actually pleasant, I think, to hear a kindly voice agin, bringing up memories of wind, and trees, and sun on the grass, and such forgotten things.
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We may indeed in counsel point to the higher road, but we cannot compel any free creature to walk upon it. That leadeth to tyranny, which disfigureth good and maketh it seem hateful.
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Help means ruin and saving means slaying.
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After some time he felt for his pipe. It was not broken, and that was something. Then he felt for his pouch, and there was some tobacco in it, and that was something more. Then he felt for matches and he could not find any at all, and that shattered his hopes completely.
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All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Erol and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death.
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Such is of the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere.
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In one thing you have not changed, dear friend, said Aragorn: you still speak in riddles. What? In riddles? said Gandalf. No! For I was talking aloud to myself. A habit of the old: they choose the wisest person present to speak to the long explanations needed by the young are wearying.
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Sam, clinging to Frodo's arm, collapsed on a step in the black darkness. 'Poor old Bill!' he said in a choking voice. 'Poor old Bill! Wolves and snakes! But the snakes were too much for him. I had to choose, Mr. Frodo. I had to come with you.
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We don't want any adventures here! You might try over the Hill or Across the Water.
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But Sam turned to Bywater, and so came back up the Hill, as day was ending once more. And he went on, and there was yellow light, and fire within and the evening meal was ready, and he was expected. And Rose drew him in, and set him in his chair, and put little Elanor upon his lap. He drew a deep breath. ‘Well, I’m back,’ he said
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Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.
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Of the twelve companions of Thorin, ten remained. Fili and Kili had fallen defending him with shield and body, for he was their mother’s elder brother.
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True education is a kind of never-ending story . . .
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Speak politely to an enraged dragon.
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Thank you, Sam, he said in a cracked whisper. How far is there to go? I don't know, said Sam, because I don't know where we're going.
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