When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.

And what do you wish?' he said at last. 'That what should be shall be,' she answered.

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.

But he that sows lies in the end shall not lack of a harvest, and soon he may rest from toil indeed, while others reap and sow in his stead.

You can only come to the morning through the shadows.

A story must be told or there'll be no story, yet it is the untold stories that are most moving.

Tomorrow we may come this way, And take the hidden paths that run Towards the Moon or to the Sun