It is mine to give to whom I will, like my heart.

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

O! Tril-lil-lil-lolly the valley is jolly, ha! ha! -Elves of Rivendell

Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars, not if you care for such things.

For myself, I find I become less cynical rather than more--remembering my own sins and follies; and realize that men's hearts are not often as bad as their acts, and very seldom as bad as their words.

I will not say, do not weep, for not all tears are an evil.

A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night.