J.R.R. Tolkien (January 03, 1892 - September 02, 1973)
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J.R.R. Tolkien in Wikipedia
In life there can be no victor, for death comes to all and smites them.
It needs more to make a king than a piece of elvish glass, or a rabble such as this.
It needs but one foe to breed a war, and those who have not swords can still die upon them.
Fair speech may hide a foul heart.
Sleep! I feel the need of it. Yet my axe is restless in my hand. Give me a row of orc-necks and room to swing and all weariness will fall from me!
That's our game, serve and block. It's been our style all year.
I stepped out and felt the heat.
For fools rush in where angels fear to tread