You cannot pass," he said. The orcs stood still, and a dead silence fell. "I am a servant … - J. R. R. Tolkien

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Honor is like an island, rugged and without shores; we can never re-enter it once we are on the outside. [Fr. , L'honneur est comme une ile escarpee et sans bords; On n'y peut plus rentrer des qu'on en est dehors. ]

J. R. R. Tolkien

You cannot pass," he said. The orcs stood still, and a dead silence fell. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass.

Back, Dark, Fire, Flame, Flames, Orcs

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Living by faith includes the call to something greater than cowardly self-preservation.

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A man that flies from his fear may find that he has only taken a short cut to meet it.

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For if joyful is the fountain that rises in the sun, its springs are in the wells of sorrow unfathomable at the foundations of the Earth.

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It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end… because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing… this shadow. Even darkness must pass.

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I am dreading the publication, for it will be impossible not to mind what is said. I have exposed my heart to be shot at.

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