He found himself wondering at times, especially in the Autumn, about the wild lands, and strange visions of mountains that he had never seen came into his dreams. He began to say to himself 'Perhaps I shall cross the river myself one day.' To which the other half of his mind always replied 'Not yet. (2, Book 1)

Pity? It was pity that stayed his hand. Pity and Mercy: not to strike without need. (2, Book 1)

Sing Hey! For the bath at the close of day that washes the weary mud away! A loon is he that will not sing: O! Water Hot is a noble thing! (5, Book 1)

All that is gold does not glitter; not all those who wander are lost; (10, Book 1)

It is no small thing to have come so far, and through such dangers, still bearing the ring. (1, Book 2)

Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.'... (3, Book 2)