I should like to save the Shire, if I could - though there have been times when I thought the inhabitants too stupid and dull for words, and have felt that an earthquake or an invasion of dragons might be good for them. But I don't feel like that now. I feel that as long as the Shire lies behind, safe and comfortable, I shall find wandering more bearable: I shall know that somewhere there is a firm foothold, even if my feet cannot stand there again.

Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!

And then her heart changed, or at least she understood it; and the winter passed, and the sun shone upon her.

It is the way of my people to use light words at such times and say less than they mean. We fear to say too much. It robs us of the right words when a jest is out of place.

Never laugh at live dragons.

Chip the glasses and crack the plates! / Blunt the knives and bend the forks! / That's what Bilbo Baggins hates.

Ónen i-estel edain, ú-chebin estel anim. (I gave Hope to the Dúnedain, I have kept none for myself.) (Gilraen's linnod)