The wide world is all about you; you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot forever fence it out.
It's like things are in the world. Hopes fail. An end comes. We have only a little time to wait now.
The burned hand teaches best.
Surely you do not disbelieve the prophecies, because you had a hand in bringing them about yourself? You don't really suppose, do you, that all your adventures and escapes were managed by mere luck, just for your sole benefit? You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!
Still round the corner there may wait, A new road or a secret gate.
Some who have read the book, or at any rate have reviewed it, have found it boring, absurd, or contemptible; and I have no cause to complain, since I have similar opinions of their works, or of the kinds of writing that they evidently prefer.
So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending.
Sleep! I feel the need of it. Yet my axe is restless in my hand. Give me a row of orc-necks and room to swing and all weariness will fall from me!
She should not die, so young and beautiful. At least, she should not die alone.
We are a plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures.