That was Thorin's style. He was an important dwarf. If he had been allowed, he would probably have gone on like this until he was out of breath, without telling anyone there anything that was not known already. But he was rudely interrupted.

Being a cheerful hobbit, he had not needed hope, as long as despair could be postponed. (Of Sam)

The one small garden of a free gardener was all his need and due, not a garden swollen to a realm; his own hands to use, not the hands of others to command.

Living by faith includes the call to something greater than cowardly self-preservation.

Wraiths! Wraiths on wings!

Alas, not me, lord!" she said. "Shadow lies on me still. Look not to me for healing! I am a shieldmaiden and my hand is ungentle.

You may not like my burglar, but please don't damage him.