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I threw down my enemy, and he fell from the high place and broke the mountain-side where he smote it in his ruin.

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
Broke
Mountain
Side
Sides
Smote
Enemy
Threw
High
Ruin
Place
Ruins
Fell

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Let this be the hour when we draw swords together. Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath, now for ruin, and the red dawn. Forth, Eorlingas!
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All my own small perception of beauty both in majesty and simplicity is founded.
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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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You can make the Ring into an allegory of our own time, if you like: and allegory of the inevitable fate that waits for all attempts to defeat evil power by power.
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For we put the thought of all that we love into all that we make.
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My 'Sam Gamgee' is indeed a reflexion of the English soldier, of the privates and batmen I knew in the 1914 war, and recognised as so far superior to myself.
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Do not scorn pity that is the gift of a gentle heart, Éowyn!
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The wide world is all about you: you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot for ever fence it out.
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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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Pay heed to the tales of old wives. It may well be that they alone keep in memory what it was once needful for the wise to know.
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Go back! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your Master.
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And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. And for two and a half thousand years, the ring passed out of all knowledge.
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Tall ships and tall kings Three times three, What brought they from the foundered land Over the flowing sea? Seven stars and seven stones And one white tree. (The Two Towers)
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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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And long there he lay, an image of the splendour of the Kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world.
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May the hair on your toes never fall out!
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Struck by lightning! Struck by lightning!
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We may stand, if only on one leg, or at least be left still upon our knees.
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You have to understand the good in things, to detect the real evil.
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Most English-speaking people, for instance, will admit that cellar door is 'beautiful', especially if dissociated from its sense (and its spelling). More beautiful than, say, sky, and far more beautiful than beautiful. Well then, in Welsh for me cellar doors are extraordinarily frequent.
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