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for he that strikes the first blow, if he strikes it hard enough, may need to strike no more.
You have yet time to clean the rust from your sword.’
The sun was already westering
‘You thought I remained in Meduseld bent like an old tree under winter snow. So it was when you rode to war. But a west wind has shaken the boughs,’
The sun had set, already it had sunk behind the rim of the world;
‘Are we riding far tonight, Gandalf?’ asked Merry after a while. ‘I don’t know how you feel with small rag-tag dangling behind you; but the rag-tag is tired and will be glad to stop dangling and lie down.’
On the contrary! No, the burned hand teaches best. After that advice about fire goes to the heart.’
