To crooked eyes truth may wear a wry face

It is no bad thing celebrating a simple life.

To be a cult figure in one's own lifetime is most unpleasant.

Things will go as they will, and there is no need to hurry to meet them.

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew.

Indeed you did your best...I hope that it may be long before you find yourself in such a tight corner again between two such terrible old men. ~ Gandalf to Pippin

Fare well we call to hearth and hall Though wind may blow and rain may fall We must away ere break of day Over the wood and mountain tall To Rivendell where Elves yet dwell In glades beneath the misty fell Through moor and waste we ride in haste And wither then we cannot tell With foes ahead behind us dread Beneath the sky shall be our bed Until at last our toil be sped Our journey done, our errand sped We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day!