Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life

You asked for a brief sketch of my stuff that is connected with my imaginary world. It is difficult to say anything without saying too much: the attempt to say a few words opens a floodgate of excitement, the egoist and the artist at once desires to say how the stuff has grown, what it is like, and what he thinks he means, or is trying to represent by it all."-JRR Tolkien, 1951

What has it got in its pocketses?" The sound came hissing louder and sharper, and as he looked towards it, to his alarm Bilbo now saw two small points of light peering at him. As suspicion grew in Gollum's mind, the light of his eyes burnt with a pale flame.

No, sweet one. See, my precious: if we has it, then we can escape, even from Him, eh? Perhaps we grow very strong, stronger than Wraiths. Lord Smeagol? Gollum the Great? The Gollum! Eat fish every day, three times a day, fresh forum the sea. Most precious Gollum! Must have it...

Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall

Non puoi passare - disse. Gli Orchi tacquero, e si fece un silenzio di morte - Sono un servitore del Fuoco Segreto, e reggo la fiamma di Anor. Non puoi passare. A nulla ti servirà il fuoco oscu­ro, fiamma di Udùn. Torna nell'Ombra! Non puoi passare

Even the good plans of wise wizards like Gandalf and of good friends like Elrond go astray sometimes when you are off on dangerous adventures over the Edge of the Wild, and Gandalf was a wise enough wizard to know it.

He loved mountains, or he had loved the thought of them marching on the edge of stories brought from far away; but now he was borne down by the insupportable weight of Middle-earth. He longed to shut out the immensity in a quiet room by a fire.

He knew that all the hazards and perils were now drawing together to a point: the next day would be a day of doom, the day of final effort or disaster, the last gasp.

...and for a great deal it seemed good to him, for in the music there were no flaws.