“Quickly, the dragon came at him, encouragedAs Beowulf fell back; its breath flared,And he suffered, wrapped around in swirlingFlames -- a king, before, but nowA beaten warrior. None of his comradesCame to him, helped him, his brave and nobleFollowers; they ran for their lives, fledDeep in a wood. And only one of themRemained, stood there, miserable, remembering,As a good man must, what kinship should mean.”

“The king sleeps still, under a mountain , and around him is assembledhis warriors and his herds and his riches. By his right hand is his cup,filled with possibility. On his breast nestles his sword, waiting, too, to wake.Fortunate is the soul who finds the king and is brave enough to call him to wakefulness, for the king will grant him a favour, as wondrous as can be imagined by a mortal man.”

“...I can’t help but throw myself at him, wrapping my body around his. I hear him laugh softly before I push my mouth hard against his, pulling a deep groan from him. I feel his arms wrap around me, holding me tight as he turns and backs us up against the closed door. I’m glad we’re alone in here..”

“He looks sleepy and obscene; I want to slap him and wrap my arms and legs around him and breathe his air…- Sparrow”

“At last Fingon stood alone with his guard dead about him; and he fought with Gothmog, until another Balrog came behind and cast a thong of fire about him. Then Gothmog hewed him with his black axe, and a white flame sprang up from the helm of Fingon as it was cloven. Thus fell the High King of the Noldor; and they beat him into the dust with their maces; and his banner, blue and silver, they trod into the mire of his blood.”

“I love you," Sam said.Celaena wrapped her arms around him and held him close, breathing his scent. Her only reply was, "I hate packing.”