The world changes, and all that once was strong now proves unsure.
What punishments of God are not gifts?
After some while Bilbo became impatient. "Well, what is it?" he said. "The answer's not a kettle boiling over, as you seem to think by the noise you are making.
The treacherous are ever distrustful.
If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.
There I lay staring upward, while the stars wheeled over... Faint to my ears came the gathered rumor of all lands: the springing and the dying, the song and the weeping, and the slow everlasting groan of overburdened stone.