This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
J. B. S. Haldane, fully John Burdon Sanderson Haldane
Capitalism, though it may not always give the scientific worker a living wage, will always protect him, as being one of the geese which produce golden eggs for its table.
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
And so it was that Gwaihir saw them with his keen far-seeing eyes, as down the wild wind he came, and daring the great peril of the skies he circled in the air: two small dark figures, forlorn, hand in hand upon a little hill, while the world shook under them, and gasped, and rivers of fire drew near. And even as he espied tham and came swooping down, he saw them fall, worn out, or choked with fumes and heat, or stricken down by despair at last, hiding their eyes from death. Side by side they lay; and down swept Gwaihir, and down came Landroval and Meneldor the swift; and in a dream, not knowing what fate had befallen them, the wanderers were lifted up and borne far away out of the darkness and the fire.
Labor |
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
Aragorn threw back his cloak. The elven-sheath glittered as he grasped it, and the bright blade of And£ril shone like a sudden flame as he swept it out. 'Elendil!' he cried. 'I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, D£nadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!
Control | Enough | Improvement | Labor | Money | People | Reason | Responsibility | Slavery | Child | Think |
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
But the helm of her secrecy had fallen from her, and her bright hair, released from its bonds, gleamed with pale gold upon her shoulders. Her eyes grey as the sea were hard and fell, and yet tears were on her cheek. A sword was in her hand, and she raised her shield against the horror of her enemy's eyes? Still she did not blench: maiden of the Rohirrim, child of kings, slender but as a steel-blade, fair yet terrible. A swift stroke she dealt, skilled and deadly. The outstretched neck she clove asunder, and the hewn head fell like a stone. Backward she sprang as the huge shape crashed to ruin, vast wings outspread, crumpled on the earth; and with its fall the shadow passed away. A light fell about her, and her hair shone in the sunrise.
Ability | Better | People | Position | Space | World | Think | Understand |
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
Frodo drew the Ring out of his pocket again and looked at it. It now appeared plain and smooth, without mark or device that he could see. The gold looked very fair and pure, and Frodo thought how rich and beautiful was its color, how perfect was its roundness. It was an admirable thing and altogether precious. When he took it out he had intended to fling it from him into the very hottest part of the fire. But he found now that he could not do so, not without a great struggle. He weighed the Ring in his hand, hesitating and forcing himself to remember all that Gandalf had told him; and then with an effort of will he made a movement, as if to cast it away - but he found that he had put it back in his pocket.
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
Good stories deserve a little embellishment.
Change |
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
GANDALF: A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
I was talking aloud to myself. A habit of the old: they choose the wisest person present to speak to.
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
Fare well we call to hearth and hall Though wind may blow and rain may fall We must away ere break of day Over the wood and mountain tall To Rivendell where Elves yet dwell In glades beneath the misty fell Through moor and waste we ride in haste And wither then we cannot tell With foes ahead behind us dread Beneath the sky shall be our bed Until at last our toil be sped Our journey done, our errand sped We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day!
Value |
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
Few other griefs amid the ill chances of this world have more bitterness and shame for a man's heart than to behold the love of a lady so fair and brave that cannot be returned.
Right |
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
Good Morning! said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat. What do you mean? he said. Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on? All of them at once, said Bilbo. And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain... Good morning! he said at last. We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water. By this he meant that the conversation was at an end. What a lot of things you do use Good morning for! said Gandalf. Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off.
Tomorrow |
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
I threw down my enemy, and he fell from the high place and broke the mountain-side where he smote it in his ruin.
Blame |
J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien
Far over the misty mountains cold to dungeons deep and caverns old we must away ere break of day to seek the pale enchanted gold. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, while hammers fell like ringing bells in places deep, where dark things sleep, in hollow halls beneath the fells. For ancient king and elvish lord there many a gleaming golden hoard they shaped and wrought, and light they caught to hide in gems on hilt of sword. On silver necklaces they strung the flowering stars, on crowns they hung the dragon-fire, in twisted wire they meshed the light of moon and sun. Far over the misty mountains cold to dungeons deep and caverns old we must away, ere break of day, to claim our long-forgotten gold. Goblets they carved there for themselves and harps of gold; where no man delves there lay they long, and many a song was sung unheard by men or elves. The pines were roaring on the height, the wind was moaning in the night. The fire was red, it flaming spread; the trees like torches blazed with light. The bells were ringing in the dale and men looked up with faces pale; the dragon's ire more fierce than fire laid low their towers and houses frail. The mountain smoked beneath the moon; the dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom. They fled their hall to dying fall beneath his feet, beneath the moon. Far over the misty mountains grim to dungeons deep and caverns dim we must away, ere break of day, to win our harps and gold from him!
Work |