And if Sam considered himself lucky, Frodo knew he was more lucky himself; for there was not a hobbit in the Shire that was looked after with such care.

No half-heartedness and no worldly fear must turn us aside from following the light unflinchingly.

Look, up at the sky. There is a light, a beauty up there, that no shadow can touch

A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.

To whatever end. Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? They have passed like rain on the mountains. Like wind in the meadow. The days have gone down in the west. Behind the hills, into shadow. How did it come to this?

The whole thing is quite hopeless, so it's no good worrying about tomorrow. It probably won't come.

Ultimately we've only got humanity to work with. It's only clay we've got.