And Yet the Books. And yet the books will be there on the shelves, separate beings, That appeared once, still wet. As shining chestnuts under a tree in autumn, And, touched, coddled, began to live. In spite of fires on the horizon, castles blown up, Tribes on the march, planets in motion.
Czeslaw MiloszAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Born: June 30, 1911
- Died: August 14, 2004
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He heard himself crying out: Never, never! Or was it: Verily I come, I come to you? He could not tell. Then as a flash from some other point of power there came to his mind another thought: Take it off! Take it off! Fool, take it off! Take off the Ring! The two powers strove in him. For a moment, perfectly balanced between their piercing points, he writhed, tormented. Suddenly he was aware of himself again. Frodo, neither the Voice nor the Eye: free to choose, and with one remaining instant...
J. R. R. Tolkien