"O cold ! O shivery ! It was your ambrosial beauty. Forget, forgive. Kismet. Let me off this once."

Next Quote

Eastward the dawn rose, ridge behind ridge into the morning, and vanished out of eyesight into guess; it was no more than a glimmer blending with the hem of the sky, but it spoke to them, out of the memory and old tales, of the high and distant mountains.

— J. R. R. Tolkien