The only just literary critic," he concluded, "is Christ, who admires more than does any man the gifts He Himself has bestowed.

And he sang to them, now in the Elven tongue, now in the speech of the West, until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.

Do not scorn pity that is the gift of a gentle heart, Éowyn!

Advice is a dangerous gift, even from the wise to the wise, and all courses may run ill.

Now and again he spoke to those that served him and thanked them in their own language. They smiled at him and said laughing: 'Here is a jewel among hobbits!

There I lay staring upward, while the stars wheeled over... Faint to my ears came the gathered rumor of all lands: the springing and the dying, the song and the weeping, and the slow everlasting groan of overburdened stone.

Maybe the paths that you each shall tread are already laid before your feet though you do not see them