Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name.
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Peter S. Beagle
Peter Soyer Beagle (born April 20, 1939) is an American novelist and screenwriter, especially fantasy fiction. His best-known work is The Last Unicorn (1968), a fantasy novel he wrote in his twenties, which Locus subscribers voted the number five "All-Time Best Fantasy Novel" in 1987. During the last twenty-five years he has won several literary awards including a World Fantasy Award for Life Achievement in 2011. 2Early life Beagle was born in Manhattan on April 20, 1939, the son of Rebecca Soyer and Simon Beagle. Three of his uncles were noted painters, Moses, Raphael, and Isaac Soyer. 2Career Beagle was raised in Bronx, New York, and graduated from the Bronx High School of Science in 1955. He garnered early recognition from The Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, winning a scholarship to University of Pittsburgh for a poem he submitted as a high school senior. He went on to graduate from the university with a degree in creative writing. Following a year overseas, Beagle held the graduate Stegner Fellowship in creative writing at Stanford University, where he overlapped with Ken Kesey, Gurney Norman, and Larry McMurtry. Beagle wrote his first novel, A Fine and Private Place, when he was only 19 years old, following it with a memoir, I See by My Outfit, in 196
One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust, the very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men…
It's a dangerous business, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no telling where you might be swept off to.
[to his party guests] I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.
[from prologue] For the time would soon come when Hobbits would shape the fortunes of all.
[Boromir picks up the One Ring after Frodo had lost it] It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing. Such a little thing.
I know what I must do. It's just... I'm afraid to do it.
Frodo: Go back, Sam. I'm going to Mordor alone. Sam: Of course you are. And I'm coming with you.
I made a promise, Mr Frodo. A promise. 'Don't you leave him Samwise Gamgee.' And I don't mean to. I don't mean to.
I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye.
Gandalf: [to Frodo] Aragorn: Are you frightened? Frodo: Yes. Aragorn: Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you.
Keep it secret. Keep it safe.
My dear Frodo. Hobbits really are amazing creatures. You can learn all there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years they can still surprise you.
Fly, you fools!
Frodo: You're late. Gandalf: A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.
[Gandalf is standing on the bridge, in front of the Balrog] You cannot pass! I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udun! Go back to the shadow. You shall not pass!