Life creeps slowly upward. . . . When some forgotten inventor of the older world smote his rival or enemy with a branch of wood and found that it was good and thereafter made a practice of smiting rivals and enemies with branches of wood, then, and on that day, artificiality may be said to have begun. Then, and on that day, was begun a revolution destined to change the history of life. Then, and on that day, was laid the cornerstone of that most tremendous of artifices, CIVILIZATION!
And he smote the Balrog upon the mountainside.
It smote me to the heart that I had found no one in all the world who loved me more than all others.
I threw down my enemy, and he fell from the high place and broke the mountain-side where he smote it in his ruin.