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J. R. R. Tolkien

"A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid."

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"A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid."

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A.E. Samaan

"A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid."

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J. R. R. Tolkien
"A King will have his way in his own hall, be it folly or wisdom."
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J. R. R. Tolkien
"Well here we are, just the four of us that started out together,' said Merry. 'We have left all the rest behind, one after another. It seems almost like a dream that has slowly faded.''Not to me,' said Frodo. 'To me it feels more like falling asleep again."
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J. R. R. Tolkien
"Then the dwarves forgot their joy and their confident boasts of a moment before and cowered down in fright. Smaug was still to be reckoned with. It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him."
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J. R. R. Tolkien
"Don't the great tales never end?""No, they never end as tales," said Frodo. "But the people in them come, and go when their part's ended. Our part will end later or sooner."
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J. R. R. Tolkien
"Myth and fairy-story must, as all art, reflect and contain in solution elements of moral and religious truth (or error), but not explicit, not in the known form of the primary 'real' world."
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J. R. R. Tolkien
"And he smote the Balrog upon the mountainside."
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J. R. R. Tolkien
"Being a cheerful hobbit, he had not needed hope, as long as despair could be postponed."
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J. R. R. Tolkien
"Our language now has become quick-moving (in syllables), and may be very supple and nimble, but is rather thin in sound and in sense too often diffuse and vague. the language of our forefathers, especially in verse, was slow, not very nimble, but very sonorous, and was intensely packed and concentrated - or could be in a good poet."
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J. R. R. Tolkien
"There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach."
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J. R. R. Tolkien
"But the sons of Men die indeed, and leave the world; wherefore they are called the Guests or the Strangers. Death is their fate, the gift of IllAovatar, which as time wears even the Powers shall envy."
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