Fear both the heat and the cold of your heart, and strive for patience, if you can.

You ought not to be rude to an eagle, when you are only the size of a hobbit, and are up in hid eyrie at night!

In doubt a man of worth will trust to his own wisdom.

I'm in a position where it doesn't matter what people think of me now.

Oft hope is born when all is forlorn.

If your first Christmas tree is a wilting eucalyptus and if you're normally troubled by heat and sand... then, to have just at the age when imagination is opening out, suddenly find yourself in a quiet Warwickshire village, I think it engenders a particular love of what you might call central Midlands English countryside. Based on good water, stones and elm trees and small quiet rivers and so on, and of course, rustic people about.

Still round the corner there may wait, A new road or a secret gate.