To crooked eyes truth may wear a wry face

Of all the things that men may heed 'Tis most of love they sing indeed.

And then alas! I let the matter reset, watching and waiting only, as we have too often done.

True education is a kind of never ending story — a matter of continual beginnings, of habitual fresh starts, of persistent newness.

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

I'd got hobbits on my hands hadn't I?

Where there's life there's hope, and need of vittles.