Venice seemed incredibly lovely, elvishly lovely--to me like a dream of Old Gondor, or Pelargir of the Numenorean Ships, before the return of the Shadow.

How do you move on? You move on when your heart finally understands that there is no turning back.

I don't deny it," said Frodo, looking at Sam, who was now grinning. "I don't deny it, but I'll never believe you are sleeping again, whether you snore or not. I shall kick you hard to make sure.

You must understand, young Hobbit, it takes a long time to say anything in Old Entish. And we never say anything unless it is worth taking a long time to say.

Not everyone who wanders is lost.

Middle-earth is our world. I have (of course) placed the action in a purely imaginary (though not wholly impossible) period of antiquity, in which the shape of the continental masses was different.

May the hair on your toes never fall out!