You and I, Sam, are still stuck in the worst places of the story, and it is all too likely that some will say at this point: ‘Shut the book now, Dad; we don’t want to read any more.’
All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.
Don’t adventures ever have an end? I suppose not. Someone else always has to carry on the story.
Over the field rang his clear voice calling: ‘Death! Ride, ride to ruin and the world’s ending!’
Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere.
Real names tell you the story of the things they belong to…
One who cannot cast away a treasure at need is in fetters.
Songs like trees bear fruit only in their own time and their own way: and sometimes they are withered untimely.
You have shown your usual cunning in getting up just in time for a meal.
Memory is not what the heart desires. That is only a mirror.