The praise of the praiseworthy is above all rewards.
All that is gold does not glitter.
The whole thing is quite hopeless, so it's no good worrying about tomorrow. It probably won't come.
Fair speech may hide a foul heart.
Elrond's house was perfect, whether you liked food or sleep or story-telling or singing (or reading), or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Merely to be there was a cure for weariness. ... Evil things did not come into the secret valley of Rivendell.
Much of the same sort of degraded and filthy talk can still be heard among the orc-minded; dreary and repetitive with hatred and contempt, too long removed from good to retain even verbal vigour, save in the ears of those to whom only the squalid sounds strong.