The burned hand teaches best.

If you have ever seen a dragon in a pinch, you will realize that this was only poetical exaggeration applied to any hobbit, even to Old Took's great-granduncle Bullroarer, who was so huge (for a hobbit) that he could ride a horse. He charged the ranks of the goblins of Mount Gram in the Battle of the Green Fields, and knocked their king Golfibul's head clean off with a wooden club. It sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit-hole, and in this way the battle was won and the game of Golf was invented at the same moment.

If you want to know what cram is, I can only say that I don’t know the recipe; but it is biscuitish, keeps good indefinitely, is supposed to be sustaining, and is certainly not entertaining, being in fact very uninteresting except as a chewing exercise.

If you're going to have a complicated story you must work to a map; otherwise you'll never make a map of it afterwards.

For it is easier to shout 'Stop', than to do it

Don't adventures ever have an end? I suppose not. Someone else always has to carry on on the story.

I give you this toast: To the Hobbits. May they outlast the Sarumans and see spring again in the trees.