📔 The Hobbit

Of the various burglarious proceedings he had heard of picking the trolls’ pockets seemed the least difficult, so at last he crept behind a tree just behind William.

To say that Bilbo's breath was taken away is no description at all. There are no words left to express his staggerment, since Men changed the language that they learned of elves in the days when all the world was wonderful.

Old fat spider spinning in a tree! / Old fat spider can’t see me! / Attercop! Attercop! / Won’t you stop, / Stop your spinning and look for me?

‘Confusticate and bebother these dwarves!’ he said aloud.

The yells and yammering, croaking, jibbering and jabbering; howls, growls and curses; shrieking and skriking, that followed were beyond description.

His last throes splintered it to sparks and gledes.

A splash of white on the floor came from the high moon, which was peering down through the smoke-hole in the roof.

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

“It isn't fair, my precious, is it, to ask us what it's got in its nassty little pocketses?”

They came to the river that marked the very edge of the borderland of the Wild […]