Below are my favorite lines from “The Hobbit” (may they spark in you some wonder…)
He was as noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer.
The nights were comfortless and chill, and they did not dare to sing or talk too loud, for the echoes were uncanny, and the silence seemed to dislike being broken — except by the noise of water and the wail of wind and the crack of stone.
But the ancient race of the northern mountains were the greatest of all birds; they were proud and strong and noble-hearted.
But cropping out of the ground, right in the path of the stream which looped itself about it, was a great rock, almost a hill of stone, like a last outpost of the distant mountains, or a huge piece cast miles into the plain by some giant among giants.
Soon the light of the burning was faint below, a red twinkle on the black floor; and they were high up in the sky, rising all the time in strong sweeping circles.
Their feet ruffled among the dead leaves of countless other autumns that drifted over the banks of the path from the deep red carpets of the forest.
When he could, he saw all round him a sea of dark green, ruffled here and there by the breeze; and there were everywhere hundreds of butterflies.
He felt a different person, and much fiercer and bolder in spite of
an empty stomach, as he wiped his sword on the grass and put it back into its sheath.
These questions they asked over and over again, and it was from little Bilbo that they seemed to expect to get the answers.
“I hope I never smell the smell of apples again!” said Fili.
Then, as he had said, the dwarves’ good feeling towards the little hobbit grew stronger every day.
His rage passes description — the sort of rage that is only seen when rich folk that have more than they can enjoy suddenly lose something that they have long had but have never before used or wanted.
Now a nasty suspicion began to grow in his mind — had the dwarves forgotten this important point too, or were they laughing in their sleeves at him all the time?
That is the effect that dragon-talk has on the inexperienced.
These were smooth, cut out of the living rock broad and fair; and up, up, the dwarves went, and they met no sign of any living thing, only furtive shadows that fled from the approach of their torches fluttering in the draughts.
A bitter easterly breeze blew with a threat of oncoming winter.
Their captain was Bard, grim-voiced and grim-faced, whose friends had accused him of prophesying floods and poisoned fish, though they knew his worth and courage.
If you will listen to my counsel, you will not trust the Master of the Lake-men, but rather him that shot the dragon with his bow.
There was the sound, too, of elven-harps and of sweet music; and as it echoed up towards them it seemed that the chill of the air was warmed, and they caught faintly the fragrance of woodland flowers blossoming in spring.
The treasure was not his that his evil deeds should be amended with a share of it.
He was a kindly little soul.
“So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending!” said Bilbo, and he turned his back on his adventure.
“Merry is May-time!” said Bilbo, as the rain beat into his face.