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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.

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
Cracked
Thank
Going
Whisper

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What does your heart tell you?
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The Hobbits are just rustic English people, made small in size because it reflects the generally small reach of their imagination - not the small reach of their courage or latent power.
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And yet their wills did not yield, and they struggled on.
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Each of us embodies, in a particular tale and clothed in the garments of time & place, universal truth and everlasting life.
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One has personally to come under the shadow of war to feel fully its oppression but as the years go by it seems now often forgotten that to be caught in youth by 1914 was no less hideous an experience than to be involved in 1939 and the following years. By 1918 all but one of my close friends were dead.
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He knew that all the hazards and perils were now drawing together to a point: the next day would be a day of doom, the day of final effort or disaster, the last gasp.
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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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Time doesn't seem to pass here: it just is.
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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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Lazy Lob and crazy Cob are weaving webs to wind me. I am far more sweet than other meat, but still they cannot find me! Here am I, naughty little fly you are fat and lazy. You cannot trap me, though you try, in your cobwebs crazy.
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We are being at once wisely aware of our own frivolity if we avoid hitting and whacking and prefer 'striking' and 'smiting' talk and chat and prefer 'speech' and 'discourse' well-bred, brilliant, or polite noblemen (visions of snobbery columns in the Press, and fat men on the Riviera) and prefer the 'worthy, brave and courteous men' of long ago.
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That was Thorin's style. He was an important dwarf. If he had been allowed, he would probably have gone on like this until he was out of breath, without telling anyone there anything that was not known already. But he was rudely interrupted.
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The realm of fairy-story is wide and deep and high and filled with many things: all manner of beasts and birds are found there shoreless seas and stars uncounted beauty that is an enchantment, and an ever-present peril both joy and sorrow as sharp as swords.
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There are some things that it is better to begin than to refuse, even though the end may be dark.
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The stars are far brighter Than gems without measure, The moon is far whiter Than silver in treasure The fire is more shining On hearth in the gloaming Than gold won by mining, So why go a-roaming? O! Tra-la-la-lally Come back to the Valley.
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Gandalf: Three hundred lives of men I have walked this earth and now I have no time.
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I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone.
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Then she fell on her knees, saying: 'I beg thee!' 'Nay, lady,' he said, and taking her by the hand he raised her. The he kissed her hand, and sprang into the saddle, and rode away, and did not look back and only those who knew him well and were near to him saw the pain that he bore.
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What have I got in my pocket? he said aloud. He was talking to himself, but Gollum thought it was a riddle, and he was frightfully upset. Not fair! not fair! he hissed. It isn't fair, my precious, is it, to ask us what it's got in it's nassty little pocketsess?
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Speak, or I will put a dint in your hat that even a wizard will find hard to deal with!
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