J. R. R. Tolkien Quotes

..the fields might fall to fallow and the birds might stop their song awhile; the growing things might die and lie in silence under snow, while through it all the cold sea wore its face of storms and death and sunken hopes...and yet unseen beneath the waves a warmer current ran that, in its time, would bring the spring.

New beginnings and new shoots Spring again from hidden roots Pull or stab or cut or burn, Love must ever yet return.

As long as the Earth can make a spring every year, I can.

Forget the suffering You caused others. Forget the suffering Others caused you. The waters run and run, Springs sparkle and are done, You walk the earth you are forgetting. Sometimes you hear a distant refrain. What does it mean, you ask, who is singing? A childlike sun grows warm. A grandson and a great-grandson are born. You are led by the hand once again. The names of the rivers remain with you. How endless those rivers seem! Your fields lie fallow, The city towers are not as they were. You stand at the threshold mute.

The world dies over and over again, but the skeleton always gets up and walks.

Nothing is over and done with. Nothing. Not even your malice.

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.

You're going to have to swallow Vitor Belfort. I'm going to reinvent myself and come back different every time.

A fresh and vigorous weed, always renewed and renewing, it will cut its wondrous way through rubbish and rubble.

I don't know... there's something kind of beautiful about it, don't you think? That we keep living and growing even though our world is a corpse? That we keep coming back no matter how many of us die?

From every ruin, life springs up again and everything that dies is born again.

It's in our blood to start again.

Our destiny often looks like a fruit-tree in winter. Who would think from its pitiable aspect that those rigid boughs, those rough twigs could next spring again be green, bloom, and even bear fruit? Yet we hope it, we know it.

I can still bring into my body the joy I felt at seeing the first trillium of spring, which seemed to be telling me, “Never give up hope, spring will come.”

What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain-- What is gone is gone.

That's what building a body of work is all about. It's about the daily labor, the many individual acts, the choices large and small that add up over time, over a lifetime to a lasting legacy. It's about not being satisfied with the latest achievement, the latest gold star, because the one thing I know about a body of work is that it's never finished. It's cumulative. It deepens and expands with each day you give your best. You may have setbacks and you may have failures, but you're not done.

When we feel weak, all we have to do is wait a little while. The spring returns and the winter snows melt and fill us with new energy.

What is dead may never die, but rises again, stronger and harder.

As a tree, even though it has been cut down, is firm so long as its root is safe, and grows again, thus, unless the feeders of thirst are destroyed, the pain (of life) will return again and again.

If you watch how nature deals with adversity, continually renewing itself, you can't help but learn.

Books are like seeds. They can lie dormant for centuries and then flower in the most unpromising soil.

Expect to have hope rekindled. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again.

No matter how difficult the situation is, it won't last forever. What follows the night is the day. What follows the winter is the spring.

Don’t call it a comeback, I’ve been here for years.