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A friend of mine tells that I talk in shorthand and then smudge it.

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
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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
Friend
Talk
Smudge
Shorthand
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He stands not alone. You would die before your stroke fell.
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Ho! Tom Bombadil, Tom Bombadillo! By water, wood and hill, by reed and willow, By fire, sun and moon, harken now and hear us! Come, Tom Bombadil, for our need is near us!
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Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!
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I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.
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It is mine, I tell you. My own. My precious. Yes, my precious.
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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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Indeed you did your best...I hope that it may be long before you find yourself in such a tight corner again between two such terrible old men. ~ Gandalf to Pippin
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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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Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory
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Upon the hearth the fire is red, Beneath the roof there is a bed But not yet weary are our feet, Still round the corner we may meet A sudden tree or standing stone That none have seen but we alone. Tree and flower and leaf and grass, Let them pass! Let them pass!
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His grief he will not forget but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom.
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For the less even as for the greater there is some deed that he may accomplish but once only and in that deed his heart shall rest.
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I will take the Ring, he said, though I do not know the way.
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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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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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Of all the things that men may heed 'Tis most of love they sing indeed.
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But do not despise the lore that has come down from distant years for oft it may chance that old wives keep in memory word of things that once were needful for the wise to know.
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The one small garden of a free gardener was all his need and due, not a garden swollen to a realm his own hands to use, not the hands of others to command.
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I may be a burglar...but I'm an honest one, I hope, more or less.
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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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