“You can only come to the morning through the shadows.”

Sorry! I don’t want any adventures, thank you. Not Today. Good morning! But please come to tea -any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Good bye!

The whole thing is quite hopeless, so it’s no good worrying about tomorrow. It probably won’t come.

The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.

Pay heed to the tales of old wives. It may well be that they alone keep in memory what it was once needful for the wise to know.

I wished to be loved by another,’ [Éowyn] answered. ‘But I desire no man’s pity.

The wide world is all about you: you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot for ever fence it out.

It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him.

I am he that buries his friends alive and drowns them and draws them alive again from the water. I came from the end of a bag, but no bag went over me.

End? No, the journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path. One that we all must take.

For even the very wise cannot see all ends.

Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars.

A safe fairyland is untrue to all worlds.

All’s well that ends better.

Don’t go where I can’t follow!

And he took her in his arms and kissed her under the sunlit sky, and he cared not that they stood high upon the walls in the sight of many.

It’s the job that’s never started as takes longest to finish.

And I will find some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings.

Man’s wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.

The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day.

Bright as does the morning star appear, Out of the east with flaming locks bedight, To tell the dawning day is drawing near.

Again rejoicing Nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues Her leafy locks wave in the breeze, All freshly steep’d in the morning dews.

What is life, when wanting love? Night without a morning; Love’s the cloudless summer sun, Nature gay adorning.

The chilly morning breeze wakes me this whiff of fall is so welcoming, my soul craves the changing leaves along with the toasty seasonal drinks while I am wrapped in my blanket basking in warm, sweet dreams.

You are the cream in my coffee as you lather me with your sweet kisses, brightening up my every morning. Your existence is ever so adoring.