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Tre ringar för älvkonungarnas makt högt i det blå, sju för dvärgarnas furstar i salar av sten, nio för de dödliga, som köttets väg skall gå, en för mörkrets herre i ondskans dunkla sken i Mordorslandets hisnande gruva. En ring att sämja dem, en ring att främja dem, en ring att djupt i mörkrets vida riken tämja dem - i Mordors land, där skuggorna ruva.
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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.
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The world is grey, the mountains old, The forge's fire is ashen-cold; No harp is wrung, no hammer falls: The darkness dwells in Durin's halls; The shadow lies upon his tomb In Moria, in Khazad-dum. But still the sunken stars appear In dark and windless Mirrormere; There lies his crown in water deep, Till Durin wakes again from sleep.
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Courage is found in unlikely places.
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I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence.
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