This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
And in the darkness bind them.
Conversation | Man | Ugly | Will |
J. B. S. Haldane, fully John Burdon Sanderson Haldane
It was a reaction from the old idea of protoplasm, a name which was a mere repository of ignorance.
Love |
J. B. Priestly, fully John Boynton Priestly
A synopsis is a cold thing. You do it with the front of your mind. If you're going to stay with it, you never get quite the same magic as when you're going all out.
Ability | Change | Experience | Important | Qualities | Reading | Space | Time |
J. B. Priestly, fully John Boynton Priestly
But some of us are beginning to pull well away, in our irritation, from... the exquisite tasters, the vintage snobs, the three-star Michelin gourmets. There is, we feel, a decent area somewhere between boiled carrots and Beluga caviar, sour plonk and Chateau Lafitte, where we can take care of our gullets and bellies without worshipping them.
Absolute | Compassion | Equity | Heart | Honor | Suffering | Work | World |
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
But if I had spoken sooner, it would not have lessened your desire, or made it easier to resist. On the contrary! No, the burned hand teaches best. After that advice about fire goes to the heart.
J. B. S. Haldane, fully John Burdon Sanderson Haldane
Our whole universe is a universe of perceived phenomena in which all that is perceived embodies part of what is ourselves. A person and all his perceived world, thought, motives, and acts, are active manifestations of personality? personality represents a constant struggle to realize itself. This is why for personality there is always a now? entering into the meaning of the past and the nature of the future.
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
A tree there tower Tall and branching That house upholding The hall's wonder Its leaves their hangings Its limbs rafters Its mighty bole In the midst standing.
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
All this last day Frodo had not spoken, but had walked half-bowed, often stumbling, as if his eyes no longer saw the way before his feet. Sam guessed that among all their pains he bore the worst, the growing weight of the Ring, a burden on the body and a torment to his mind. Anxiously Sam had noted how his master's left hand would often be raised as if to ward off a blow, or to screen his shrinking eyes from a dreadful Eye that sought to look in them. And sometimes his right hand would creep to his breast, clutching, and then slowly, as the will recovered mastery, it would be withdrawn.
Will |
J. B. Priestly, fully John Boynton Priestly
A novelist who writes nothing for 10 years finds his reputation rising. Because I keep on producing books they say there must be something wrong with this fellow.
Experience | Speculation | World |
J. B. Priestly, fully John Boynton Priestly
Our trouble is that we drink too much tea. I see in this the slow revenge of the Orient, which has diverted the Yellow River down our throats.
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
All my own perception of beauty both in majesty and simplicity is founded upon Our Lady.
Preference | Taste | Will | Work |
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
And so Gollum found them hours later, when he returned, crawling and creeping down the path out of the gloom ahead. Sam sat propped against the stone, his head dropping sideways and his breathing heavy. In his lap lay Frodo's head, drowned in sleep; upon his white forehead lay one of Sam's brown hands, and the other lay softly upon his master's breast. Peace was in both their faces. Gollum looked at them. A strange expression passed over his lean hungry face. The gleam faded from his eyes, and they went dim and grey, old and tired. A spasm of pain seemed to twist him, and he turned away, peering back up towards the pass, shaking his head, as if engaged in some interior debate. Then he came back, and slowly putting out a trembling hand, very cautiously he touched Frodo's knee--but almost the touch was a caress. For a fleeting moment, could one of the sleepers have seen him, they would have thought that they beheld an old weary hobbit, shrunken by the years that had carried him far beyond his time, beyond friends and kin, and the fields and streams of youth, an old starved pitiable thing.
Entertainment | Need | Will | Think | Vice |