J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

And far away, as Frodo put on the Ring and claimed it for his own, even in Sammath Naur the very heart of his realm, the Power in Barad-d–r was shaken, and the Tower trembled from its foundations to its proud and bitter crown. The Dark Lord was suddenly aware of him, and his Eye piercing all shadows looked across the plain to the door that he had made; and the magnitude of his own folly was revealed to him in a blinding flash, and all the devices of his enemies were at last laid bare. Then his wrath blazed in consuming flame, but his fear rose like a vast black smoke to choke him. For he knew his deadly peril and the thread upon which his doom now hung. From all his policies and webs of fear and treachery, from all his stratagems and wars his mind shook free; and throughout his realm a tremor ran, his slaves quailed, and his armies halted, and his captains suddenly steerless, bereft of will, wavered and despaired. For they were forgotten. The whole mind and purpose of the Power that wielded them was now bent with overwhelming force upon the Mountain. At his summons, wheeling with a rending cry, in a last desperate race there flew, faster than the winds, the Nazg–l, the Ringwraiths, and with a storm of wings they hurtled southwards to Mount Doom.

Good |

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

And here you will stay, Gandalf the Grey, and rest from journeys. For I am Saruman the Wise, Saruman the Ring-maker, Saruman of Many Colors! I looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven of all colors, and if he moved they shimmered and changed hue so that the eye was bewildered.

Service | Woman |

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

But do you remember Gandalf?s words: Even Gollum may have something yet to do? But for him, Sam, I could not have destroyed the Ring. The Quest would have been in vain, even at the bitter end. So let us forgive him! For the Quest is achieved, and now all is over. I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam

Men | Will |

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

I wished to be loved by another,' [owyn] answered. 'But I desire no man's pity.

Men | Will |

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

I don?t like anything here at all. said Frodo, step or stone, breath or bone. Earth, air and water all seem accursed. But so our path is laid. Yes, that?s so, said Sam, And we shouldn?t be here at all, if we?d known more about it before we started. But I suppose it?s often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo, adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that?s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn?t. And if they had, we shouldn?t know, because they?d have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on, and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same; like old Mr Bilbo. But those aren?t always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of a tale we?ve fallen into? I wonder, said Frodo, But I don?t know. And that?s the way of a real tale. Take any one that you?re fond of. You may know, or guess, what kind of a tale it is, happy-ending or sad-ending, but the people in it don?t know. And you don?t want them to.

J. R. R. Tolkien, fully John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

I perceived or thought of the Light of God and in it suspended one small mote (or millions of motes to only one of which was my small mind directed), glittering white because of the individual ray from the Light which both held and lit it...And the ray was the Guardian Angel of the mote: not a thing interposed between God and the creature, but God's very attention itself, personalized...This is a finite parallel to the Infinite. As the love of the Father and Son (who are infinite and equal) is a Person, so the love and attention of the Light to the Mote is a person (that is both with us and in Heaven): finite but divine, i.e. angelic.

Men |