The Hobbit

by J.R.R. Tolkien

Gandalf! If you had heard only a quarter of what I have heard about him, and I have only heard very little of all there is to hear, you would be prepared for any sort of remarkable tale.

This was Thorin’s style. He was an important dwarf. If he had been allowed, he would probably have gone on like this until he was out of breath, without telling any one there anything that was not known already.

“We have long ago paid the goblins of Moria,” said Thorin; “we must give a thought to the Necromancer.” “Don’t be absurd! He is an enemy far beyond the powers of all the dwarves put together, if they could all be collected again from the four corners of the world.

“Bother burgling and everything to do with it! I wish I was at home in my nice hole by the fire, with the kettle just beginning to sing!” It was not the last time that he wished that!

Now it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway.

Gandalf thought of most things; and though he could not do everything, he could do a great deal for friends in a tight corner.

when he said gollum he made a horrible swallowing noise in his throat. That is how he got his name, though he always called himself ‘my precious’.

Now faint as an echo, but menacing, the voice came behind: “Thief, thief, thief! Baggins! We hates it, we hates it, we hates it for ever!”