“Cold be hand and heart and bone, and cold be sleep under stone: never more to wake on stony bed, never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead. In the black wind the stars shall die, and still on gold here let them lie, till the dark lord lifts his hand over dead sea and withered land.”

“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,Nine for Mortal Men, doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throneIn the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.”

“till suddenly his hand met what felt like a tiny ring of cold metal lying on the floor of the tunnel. It was a turning-point in his career, but he did not know it. He put the ring in his pocket almost without thinking; certainly, it did not seem of any use at the moment.”

“Under the Mountain dark and tallThe King has come unto his hall!His foe is dead,the Worm of Dread,And ever so his foes shall fall.The sword is sharp, the spear is long,The arrow swift, the Gate is strong;The heart is bold that looks on gold;The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,While hammers fells like ringing bellsIn places deep, where dark things sleep,In hollow halls beneath the fells.-from The Hobbit (Dwarves Battle Song)”

“Three Rings for Elven-Kings under the skySeven for the Dwarf-Lords in their halls of stoneNine for Mortal Men doomed to dieOne for the Dark Lord on his dark throneIn the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie”

“Burn, burn tree and fern!Shrivel and scorch! A fizzling torchTo light the night for our delight, Ya hey!Bake and toast ‘em, fry and roast ‘em!till beards blaze, and eyes glaze;till hair smells and skins crack,fat melts, and bones black in cinders lie beneath the sky! So dwarves shall die,and light the night for our delight, Ya hey! Ya-harri-hey! Ya hoy!”

“Roads go ever ever on,Over rock and under tree,By caves where never sun has shone,By streams that never find the sea;Over snow by winter sown,And through the merry flowers of June,Over grass and over stone,And under mountains of the moon.Roads go ever ever onUnder cloud and under star,Yet feet that wandering have goneTurn at last to home afar.Eyes that fire and sword have seenAnd horror in the halls of stoneLook at last on meadows greenAnd trees and hills they long have known”