Gil-galad was an Elven-king. Of him the harpers sadly sing: the last whose realm was fair and free between the Mountains and the Sea. His sword was long, his lance was keen, his shining helm afar was seen; the countless stars of heaven's field were mirrored in his silver shield. But long ago he rode away, and where he dwelleth none can say; for into darkness fell his star in Mordor where the shadows are.

There is no curse in Elvish, Entish or the tongues of Men for this treachery!

I warn you, if you bore me, I shall take my revenge.

Of all the things that men may heed 'Tis most of love they sing indeed.

The future, good or ill, was not forgotten, but ceased to have any power over the present. Health and hope grew strong in them, and they were content with each good day as it came, taking pleasure in every meal, and in every word and song.

Each of us embodies, in a particular tale and clothed in the garments of time & place, universal truth and everlasting life.

Struck by lightning! Struck by lightning!