When he heard there was nothing to eat, he sat down and wept… “Why did I ever wake up!” he cried.

It matters little who is the enemy, if we cannot beat off his attack.

It is useless to meet revenge with revenge; it will heal nothing.

Voiceless it cries, Wingless flutters, Toothless bites, Mouthless mutters.

There was a fire in the wide hearth before them, and it was burning with a sweet smell, as if it were built of apple-wood.

The eyes were hollow and the carven head was broken, but about the high, stern forehead there was a coronal of silver and gold. A trailing plant with flowers like white stars had bound itself across the brows as if in reverence for the fallen king, and in the crevices of his stony hair yellow stonecrop gleamed. "They cannot conquer for ever!" said Frodo.

Nearly all marriages, even happy ones, are mistakes: in the sense that almost certainly (in a more perfect world, or even with a little more care in this very imperfect one) both partners might be found more suitable mates. But the real soul-mate is the one you are actually married to.