All that is gold does not glitter; not all those that wander are lost.
Courage is found in unlikely places.
Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.
The wise speak only of what they know.
Deep roots are not reached by frost.
The Road goes ever on and on down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, and I must follow, if I can, pursuing it with eager feet, until it joins some larger way where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say.
There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.
Not all who wander are lost.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; renewed shall be the blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king.
I have no help to send, therefore I must go myself.