Already he was a very different hobbit from the one that had run out without a pocket-handkerchief from Bag-End long ago. He had not had a pocket-handkerchief for ages.

Slight changes simply make a blur.

The birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus means that one day everything sad will come untrue.

The greatest adventure is what lies ahead. Today and tomorrow are yet to be said. The chances, the changes are all yours to make. The mold of your life is in your hands to break.

How do you move on? You move on when your heart finally understands that there is no turning back.

If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.

The chief purpose of life, for any of us, is to increase according to our capacity our knowledge of God by all means we have, and to be moved by it to praise and thanks.

All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.

It simply isn't an adventure worth telling if there aren't any dragons.

It is not the strength of the body that counts, but the strength of the spirit.

Instead of a Dark Lord, you would have a queen, not dark but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Tempestuous as the sea, and stronger than the foundations of the earth! All shall love me and despair!

Maybe that's what we do to the people we love: take shots in the dark and realize too late that we've wounded the people we are trying to protect.

I didn't know that there was a thin line between ignorance and arrogance.

In fame's temple there is always a niche to be found for rich dunces importunate scoundrels or successful butchers of the human race.

After I read all the medical journals and watched all the documentaries, I still didn't understand the physical sensation of ticking and where it comes from and what it feels like.

Love is to the heart what the summer is to the farmer's year. It brings to harvest all the loveliest flowers of the soul.

Just follow your joy. Always. I think that if you do that, life will take you on the course that it's meant to take you.

I recognize that on paper, you can't really tell that I'm a fan or a nerd.

That's what a conscience is made of, scar tissue ... Little strips and pieces of remorse sewn together year by year until they formed a distinctive pattern, a design for living.

Who is there that, in logical words, can express the effect music has on us?

Usually, autobiography is such an indulgence of the ego.