Arwen Quotes

For I am the daughter of Elrond. I shall not go with him when he departs to the Havens: for mine is the choice of Luthien, and as she so have I chosen, both the sweet and the bitter.

It is mine to give to whom I will, like my heart.

At the hill’s foot Frodo found Aragorn, standing still and silent as a tree; but in his hand was a small golden bloom of elanor, and a light was in his eyes. He was wrapped in some fair memory: and as Frodo looked at him he knew that he beheld things as they had been in this same place. For the grim years were removed from the face of Aragorn, and he seemed clothed in white, a young lord fall and fair; and he spoke words in the Elvish tongue to one whom Frodo could not see. Arwen vanimelda, namarie! He said, and then he drew a breath, and returning out of his thought he looked at Frodo and smiled. `Here is the heart of Elvendom on earth,’ he said, `and here my heart dwells ever, unless there be a light beyond the dark roads that we still must tread, you and I. Come with me!’ And taking Frodo’s hand in his, he left the hill of Cerin Amroth and came there never again as a living man.

Then Aragorn was abashed, for he saw the elven-light in her eyes and the wisdom of many days; yet from that hour he loved Arwen Undómiel daughter of Elrond.

And Aragorn the King Elessar wedded Arwen Undomiel in the City of the Kings upon the day of Midsummer, and the tale of their long waiting and labours was come to fulfillment.

... I regard the tale of Arwen and Aragorn as the most important of the Appendices [in Lord of The Rings]; it is part of the essential story, and is only placed so, because it could not be worked into the main narrative without destroying its structure ... [From letter 181]

She was a Seeker now, marked for life. She had thought this brand would be an eblem of pride, but now it meant something entirely different. She was damned.

There is no ship now that can bear me hence

But the Queen Arwen said: 'A gift I will give you. For I am the daughter of Elrond. I shall not go with him now when he departs to the Havens; for mine is the choice of Luthien, and as she so I have chosen, both the sweet and the bitter. But in my stead you shall go, Ring-bearer, when the time comes, and if you then desire it. If your hurts grieve you still and the memory or your burden is heavy, then you may pass into the West, until all your wounds and weariness are healed. But wear this now in memory of Elfstone and Evenstar with whom your life has been woven!' And she took a white gem like a star that lay upon her breast hanging upon a silver chain, and she set the chain around Frodo's neck. 'When the memory of the fear and the darkness troubles you,' she said, 'this will bring you aid.

Yea for we are the conquerors And all that is lies before us A black domain of stars And we the brightest lights within it

But Arwen went forth from the House, and the light of her eyes was quenched, and it seemed to her people that she had become cold and grey as nightfall in winter that comes without a star. Then she said farewell to Eldarion, and to her daughters, and to all whom she had loved; and she went out from the city of Minas Tirith and passed away to the land of Lórien, and dwelt there alone under the fading trees until winter came. Galadriel had passed away and Celeborn also was gone, and the land was silent. 'There at last when the mallorn-leaves were falling, but spring had not yet come, she laid herself to rest upon Cerin Amroth; and there is her green grave, until the world is changed, and all the days of her life are utterly forgotten by men that come after, and elanor and niphredil bloom no more east of the Sea.

At last, Lady Evenstar, fairest in this world, and most beloved, my world is fading. Lo! we have gathered, and we have spent, and now the time of payment draws near." 'Arwen knew well what he intended, and long had foreseen it; nonetheless she was overborne by her grief. "Would you then, lord, before your time leave your people that live by your word?" she said.

Sage laughs. “You got this all planned out, don’t you?” “I have to. This is like The Italian Job. Except we’re smuggling me.” “Sounds more like Sam and Frodo sneaking into Mordor to me,” she replies. I give her a blank look. She shrugs. “What? So I bleed Hobbit.” “Aragorn or Boromir?” “I’m more of an Arwen fan, if you know what I mean.” Sage winks.

Edilio is in hiding,” Astrid snapped. “Edilio has to worry about being kicked out of the country. Our Edilio.” “He’s got a volunteer lawyer—” But Astrid wasn’t done. “They should be putting up statues to Edilio. They should be naming schools after that boy—no, no, I’m not going to call him a boy. If he’s not a man, then I’ll never meet one.” Lana nodded approvingly, obviously enjoying and sharing in Astrid’s outrage.

Suddenly Bilbo looked up. ‘Ah, there you are at last, Dunadan!’ he cried... ‘Where have you been, my friend? Why weren’t you at the feast? The Lady Arwen was there.’ Strider looked down at Bilbo gravely. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘But often I must put mirth aside...

He did not know it, but Arwen Undómiel was also there, dwelling again for a time with the kin of her mother. She was little changed, for the mortal years had passed her by, yet her face was more grave, and her laughter now seldom was heard. But Aragorn was grown to full stature of body and mind, and Galadriel bade him cast aside his wayworn raiment, and she clothed him in silver and white, with a cloak of elven-grey and a bright gem on his brow. Then more than any kind of Men he appeared, and seemed rather an Elf-lord from the Isles of the West. And thus it was that Arwen first beheld him again after their long parting; and as he came walking towards her under the trees of Caras Galadhon laden with flowers of gold, her choice was made and her doom appointed.

So it was that Frodo saw her whom few mortals had yet seen; Arwen, daughter of Elrond, in whom it was said that the likeness of Lúthien had come on earth again; and she was called Undómiel, for she was the Evenstar of her people.

And it came to pass that in the hour of defeat Aragorn came up from the sea and unfurled the standard of Arwen in the battle of the fields of Pelennor, and in that day he was first hailed as king. And at last when all was done he entered into the inheritance of his fathers and received the crown of Gondor and the Sceptre of Arnor; and at midsummer in the year of the Fall of Sauron he took the hand of Arwen Undomiel, and they were wedded in the city of the kings.

This is something you learn when you have taken hundreds of tests: The person who wrote the test has selected one answer as truth. If you don’t choose that answer, you are marked as having chosen wrong. And yet, as the test taker, you still get to select which answer you believe is correct. It is your option, always, to see the answer differently from anyone else.

got treatment. I worked hard—I did the work. I got well again, Arwen. I was a child. Twelve. I was confused, unwell, and I’d come under the spell of a twisted, Charles Manson–like young man. A Paul Bernardo.

You’ve never been my backup, Arwen. You were always my first choice, ever since I saw you walking into town with that giant cougarin draped over your shoulders. I was fascinated with the beautiful and strong female hunter.

Astrid looked at Lana, now leaning against the window, and Diana, lost in thought, and reminded herself that at times she had hated Diana. She had told Sam to kill her if necessary. And she had disliked Lana as a short-tempered bitch who sometimes abused her privileges. She let her mind move beyond these two. Orc, who had been the first to kill in the FAYZ, the first murderer. A vicious drunk. But someone who had died a hero. Mary. Mother Mary. A saint who had died trying to murder the children she cared for. Quinn, who had been a faithless worm at the start and had been a pillar at the end. Albert. She still didn’t know quite what to think of Albert, but it was undeniable that far fewer would have walked out of the FAYZ without Albert. If her own feelings were this conflicted, was it any wonder the rest of the world didn’t know what to do with the Perdido survivors?

hibernation. Their usual stint was a single day or less, but five-days

My master says that I am Young, Middle, and Old now,” the Young Dread told her, her eyes downcast, looking at the athame in her hand. “Or perhaps I am none of these. We shall see.

Ye think work cannae be done drunk? Sometimes being drunk improves it.

If God gave us minds, should we not embrace the fruits of those minds? Surely it is a mercy, and a beautiful calling, to minister to the injured and the ill?

And then wonder took him, and a great joy; and he cast his sword up in the sunlight and sang as he caught it. And all eyes followed his gaze, and behold! upon the foremost ship a great standard broke, and the wind displayed it as she turned towards the Harlond. There flowered a White Tree, and that was for Gondor; but Seven Stars were about it, and a high crown above it, the signs of Elendil that no lord had borne for years beyond count. And the stars flamed in the sunlight, for they were wrought of gems by Arwen daughter of Elrond; and the crown was bright in the morning, for it was wrought of mithril and gold. Thus came Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elessar, Isildur's heir, out of the Paths of the Dead, borne upon a wind from the Sea to the kingdom of Gondor; and the mirth of the Rohirrim was a torrent of laughter and a flashing of swords, and the joy and wonder of the City was a music of trumpets and a ringing of bells. But the hosts of Mordor were seized with bewilderment, and a great wizardry it seemed to them that their own ships should be filled with their foes; and a black dread fell on them, knowing that the tides of fate had turned against them and their doom was at hand.

In three days, as the King had said, Éomer of Rohan came riding to the City, and with him came an éored of the fairest knights of the Mark. He was welcomed; and when they sat all at table in Merethrond, the Great Hall of Feasts, he beheld the beauty of the ladies that he saw and was filled with great wonder. And before he went to his rest he sent for Gimli the Dwarf, and he said to him: ‘Gimli Glóin’s son, have you your axe ready?’ ‘Nay, lord,’ said Gimli, ‘but I can speedily fetch it, if there be need.’ ‘You shall judge,’ said Éomer. ‘For there are certain rash words concerning the Lady in the Golden Wood that lie still between us. And now I have seen her with my eyes.’ ‘Well, lord,’ said Gimli, ‘and what say you now?’ ‘Alas!’ said Éomer. ‘I will not say that she is the fairest lady that lives.’ ‘Then I must go for my axe,’ said Gimli. ‘But first I will plead this excuse,’ said Éomer. ‘Had I seen her in other company, I would have said all that you could wish. But now I will put Queen Arwen Evenstar first, and I am ready to do battle on my own part with any who deny me. Shall I call for my sword?’ Then Gimli bowed low. ‘Nay, you are excused for my part, lord,’ he said. ‘You have chosen the Evening; but my love is given to the Morning. And my heart forebodes that soon it will pass away for ever.

The sequel [to The Silmarillion and The Hobbit], The Lord of the Rings, much the largest, and I hope also in proportion the best, of the entire cycle, concludes the whole business – an attempt is made to include in it, and wind up, all the elements and motives of what has preceded: elves, dwarves, the Kings of Men, heroic ‘Homeric’ horsemen, orcs and demons, the terrors of the Ring-servants and Necromancy, and the vast horror of the Dark Throne, even in style it is to include the colloquialism and vulgarity of Hobbits, poetry and the highest style of prose. We are to see the overthrow of the last incarnation of Evil, the unmaking of the Ring, the final departure of the Elves, and the return in majesty of the true King, to take over the Dominion of Men, inheriting all that can be transmitted of Elfdom in his high marriage with Arwen daughter of Elrond, as well as the lineal royalty of Númenor. But as the earliest Tales are seen through Elvish eyes, as it were, this last great Tale, coming down from myth and legend to the earth, is seen mainly though the eyes of Hobbits: it thus becomes in fact anthropocentric. But through Hobbits, not Men so-called, because the last Tale is to exemplify most clearly a recurrent theme: the place in ‘world politics’ of the unforeseen and unforeseeable acts of will, and deeds of virtue of the apparently small, ungreat, forgotten in the places of the Wise and Great (good as well as evil). A moral of the whole (after the primary symbolism of the Ring, as the will to mere power, seeking to make itself objective by physical force and mechanism, and so also inevitably by lies) is the obvious one that without the high and noble the simple and vulgar is utterly mean; and without the simple and ordinary the noble and heroic is meaningless.

Silence fell between them, until the Young Dread finally dared ask, “Were you a great mind, master?” A real smile crossed his face. “You don’t ask if I am a great mind, child? Because I speak gibberish now? Let me tell you – I once thought I was a great mind.” “And now?” “Now it does not matter. Great minds are not what’s wanted. Only good hearts. Good hearts choose wisely. “How does one find a good heart?” “It is luck child. Always luck. With you, I have been very lucky.

Don’t want no more rock,” Orc repeated. The bleeding stopped almost immediately. “Does it hurt?” Lana asked. “I mean the rock. I know the hole hurts.” “No. It don’t hurt.” Orc slammed his fist against his opposite arm, hard enough that any human arm would have been shattered. “I barely feel it. Even Drake’s whip, when we was fighting, I barely felt it.” Suddenly he was weeping. Tears rolled from human eyes onto cheeks of flesh and pebbles. “I don’t feel nothing except…” He pointed a thick stone finger at the flesh of his face. “Yeah,” Lana said. Her irritation was gone. Her burden was smaller, maybe, than Orc’s.

Where’s Dekka?” Astrid asked. “In the basement,” Edilio said. “She kept going for a long time. Her and Orc and Jack. But she’s sick. Tired and sick. And she got a bad burn on one hand. That was it for her. I made her go to Dahra. Lana will…you know, when she’s done with…Man, I’m sorry,” he said as he began crying again. “I can’t be digging graves. Someone else has to do that, okay? I can’t do that anymore.

Bring peace on earth don't fight to others because they will hurt you back

be real be you be proud of who you are, b a true to yourself cause JESUS set me us free

In three days, as the King had said, Éomer of Rohan came riding to the City, and with him came an éored of the fairest knights of the Mark. He was welcomed; and when they sat all at table in Merethrond, the Great Hall of Feasts, he beheld the beauty of the ladies that he saw and was filled with great wonder. And before he went to his rest he sent for Gimli the Dwarf, and he said to him: “Gimli Glóin’s son, have you your axe ready?” “Nay, lord,” said Gimli,”but I can speedily fetch it, if there be need.” “You shall judge,” said Éomer. “For there are certain rash words concerning the Lady in the Golden Wood that lie still between us. And now I have seen her with my eyes.” “Well, lord,” said Gimli, “and what say you now?” “Alas!” said Éomer. “I will not say that she is the fairest lady that lives.” “Then I must go for my axe,” said Gimli. “But first I will plead this excuse,” said Éomer. “had I seen her in other company, I would have said all that you could wish. But now I will put Queen Arwen Evenstar first, and I am ready to do battle on my own part with any who deny me. Shall I call for my sword?” Then Gimli bowed low. “Nay, you are excused for my part, lord,” he said. “You have chosen the Evening; but my love is given to the Morning. and my heart forebodes that soon it will pass away for ever.

I’m trying to help,” Albert said. “By paying him with beer?” “I paid him what he wanted, and Sam was okay with it. You were at the meeting,” Albert said. “Look, how else do you think you get someone like Orc to spend hours in the hot sun working? Astrid seems to think people will work just because we ask them to. Maybe some will. But Orc?” Lana could see his point. “Okay. I shouldn’t have jumped all over you.” “It’s okay. I’m getting used to it,” Albert said. “Suddenly I’m the bad guy. But you know what? I didn’t make people the way they are. If kids are going to work, they’re going to want something back.” “If they don’t work, we all starve.” “Yeah. I get that,” Albert said with more than a tinge of sarcasm. “Only, here’s the thing: Kids know we won’t let them starve as long as there’s any food left, right? So they figure, hey, let someone else do the work. Let someone else pick cabbages and artichokes.” Lana wanted to get back to her run. She needed to finish, to run to the FAYZ wall. But there was something fascinating about Albert. “Okay. So how do you get people to work?” He shrugged. “Pay them.” “You mean, money?” “Yeah. Except guess who had most of the money in their wallets and purses when they disappeared? Then a few kids stole what was left in cash registers and all. So if we start back using the old money we just make a few thieves powerful. It’s kind of a problem.” “Why is a kid going to work for money if they know we’ll share the food, anyway?” Lana asked. “Because some will do different stuff for money. I mean, look, some kids have no skills, right? So they pick the food for money. Then they take the money and spend it with some kid who can maybe cook the food for them, right? And that kid maybe needs a pair of sneakers and some other kid has rounded up all the sneakers and he has a store.” Lana realized her mouth was open. She laughed. The first time in a while. “Fine. Laugh,” Albert said, and turned away. “No, no, no,” Lana hastened to say. “No, I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s just that, I mean, you’re the only kid that has any kind of a plan for anything.

Lana leveled the gun at Penny. “Stop,” Lana said. Penny’s reddened face grew pale. Whatever visions she was inflicting on the people below her stopped. Kids cried in pain, sobbed from the memories. “Oh, everyone has to kiss your butt, don’t they, Healer.” Penny spit that last word. She made her hands into claws and pawed at the air. Her lips were drawn back in a teeth-baring animal snarl. “If I shoot you, I won’t heal you,” Lana said calmly. That caught Penny off guard. But she recovered quickly. She put her head down and started to laugh. It began low and rose a few decibels at a time. Lana’s arm burst into flame. A noose was flung from the ruined church wall. The rope dropped over her head, landed on her shoulders, and tightened around her throat. The limestone beneath her feet was suddenly a forest of knives all stabbing up at her. “Yeah,” Lana said. “That won’t work on me. I’ve gone one-on-one with the gaiaphage. He could teach you a few things. Stop it. Now. Or bang.” Penny’s laugh choked off. She looked hurt. As if someone had said something cruel to her. The visions ceased as suddenly as if someone had switched off a TV. “I’m kind of opposed to murder,” Lana said. “But if you don’t turn and walk away, I’ll blow a hole right where your heart is supposed to be.” “You can’t…” Penny said. “You… No.” “I missed killing a monster once. I’ve always regretted it,” Lana said. “But you’re a human. Sort of. So you get this chance: walk. Keep walking.” For what felt like a very long time Penny stood staring at Lana. Not with hatred, but with disbelief. Lana saw her very, very clearly: a head resting atop the sights of her pistol. Penny took a step back. Then another. There was a wild look of defiance, but then it died. Penny spun on her heel and walked quickly away.

You survived upon the companionship of your imagination. You survived upon the companionship of Conan of Cimmeria and Arwen Undómiel; you lived in a sea cave with Menolly and her little dragons; you were an apprentice of Polgara of the Belgariad and a friend to Sophie Hatter in her moving castle. You walked through a closet and found Aslan and pulled a sword from a stone, and you brought a legion of rogue princes back to life with a kiss. You had no Chinese heroes in books, but you imagined them there, and your dreams were filled with half-breeds, like you.

It's a popular myth that the most deadly animal in history is the human, because murder and war and genocide can be laid at the feet of our species. However, the deadliest animal is of course the mosquito. Fortunately, both species can now be significantly improved.

She likes to play with the mind-altering shit. She’s a dark one, that Arwen.

Twisted kicks? Some psycho thrill for the abnormal psych prof? His personal ‘petri dish’ wife, as Arwen called me? Some rehab project of your partner’s that you can study in real time?

Before Arwen arrived, the neighborhood was fine. Just ticking along, everyone effectively hiding their dark family secrets behind their smiling masks. But Arwen rattled their cage. The rats began running around and attacking each other.

Aragorn the King Elessar wedded Arwen Undómiel in the City of the Kings upon the day of Midsummer, and the tale of their long waiting and labours was come to fulfilment.

Nothing new to report. Probably an entertainment program starting its broadcast. This world Earth was inundated with entertainment programs. Having few real worries of their own, in Pruit’s view, the natives delighted in make-believe ones. Earth

What’s Albert going to do?” a boy named Jim demanded. “Where’s Albert?” Albert stepped from an inconspicuous position off to one side. He mounted the steps, moving carefully still, not entirely well even now. He carefully chose a position equidistant between Caine and Sam. “What should we do, Albert?” a voice asked plaintively. Albert didn’t look out at the crowd except for a quick glance up, like he was just making sure he was pointed in the right direction. He spoke in a quiet, reasonable monotone. Kids edged closer to hear. “I’m a businessman.” “True.” Toto. “My job is organizing kids to work, taking the things they harvest or catch, and redistributing them through a market.” “And getting the best stuff for yourself,” someone yelled to general laughter. “Yes,” Albert acknowledged. “I reward myself for the work I do.” This blunt admission left the crowd nonplussed. “Caine has promised that if I stay here he won’t interfere. But I don’t trust Caine.” “No, he doesn’t,” Toto agreed. “I do trust Sam. But . . .” And now you could hear a pin drop. “But . . . Sam is a weak leader.” He kept his eyes down. “Sam is the best fighter ever. He’s defended us many times. And he’s the best at figuring out how to survive. But Sam”— Albert now turned to him—“You are too humble. Too willing to step aside. When Astrid and the council sidelined you, you put up with it. I was part of that myself. But you let us push you aside and the council turned out to be useless.” Sam stood stock-still, stone-faced. “Let’s face it, you’re not really the reason things are better here, I am,” Albert said. “You’re way, way braver than me, Sam. And if it’s a battle, you rule. But you can’t organize or plan ahead and you won’t just put your foot down and make things happen.” Sam nodded slightly. It was hard to hear. But far harder was seeing the way the crowd was nodding, agreeing. It was the truth. The fact was he’d let the council run things, stepped aside, and then sat around feeling sorry for himself. He’d jumped at the chance to go off on an adventure and he hadn’t been here to save the town when they needed it. “So,” Albert concluded, “I’m keeping my things here, in Perdido Beach. But there will be free trading of stuff between Perdido Beach and the lake. And Lana has to be allowed to move freely.” Caine bristled at that. He didn’t like Albert laying down conditions. Albert wasn’t intimidated. “I feed these kids,” he said to Caine. “I do it my way.” Caine hesitated, then made a tight little bow of the head. “I want you to say it,” Albert said with a nod toward Toto. Sam saw panic in Caine’s eyes. If he lied now the jig would be up for him. Toto would call him out, Albert would support Sam, and the kids would follow Albert’s lead. Sam wondered if Caine was just starting to realize what Sam had known for some time: if anyone was king, it was neither Sam nor Caine, it was Albert.

It’s time,” Jack said. “Breeze? Count the kids,” Sam said. Brianna was back in twenty seconds. “Eighty-two, boss.” “About a third,” Jack observed. “A third of what’s left.” “Wait. Make that eighty-eight,” Brianna said. “And a dog.” Lana, looking deeply irritated—a fairly usual expression for her—and Sanjit, looking happy—a fairly usual expression for him—and Sanjit’s siblings were trotting along to catch up. “I don’t know if we’re staying up there or not,” Lana said without preamble. “I want to check it out. And my room smells like crap.” Just before the time was up, Sam heard a stir. Kids were making a lane for someone, murmuring. His heart leaped. “Hey, Sam.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Diana?” “Not expecting me, huh?” She made a wry face. “Where’s blondie? I didn’t see her at the big pep rally.” “Are you coming with us?” Brianna demanded, obviously not happy about it. “Is Caine okay with this?” Sam asked Diana. “It’s your choice, but I need to know if he’s going to come after us to take you back.” “Caine has what he wants,” Diana said. “Maybe I should call Toto over,” Sam said. The truth teller was having a conversation with Spidey. “I could ask you whether you’re coming along to spy for Caine, and see what Toto has to say.” Diana sighed. “Sam, I have bigger problems than Caine. And so do you, I guess. Because the FAYZ is going to do something it’s never done before: grow by one.” “What’s that mean?” “You are going to be an uncle.” Sam stared blankly. Brianna said a very rude word. And even Dekka looked up. “You’re having a baby?” Dekka asked. “Let’s hope so,” Diana said bleakly. “Let’s hope that’s all it is.

You showed bravery when you had no hope it would save you. Whether you know it or not, Arwen, there is a wild strength inside of you. You don't need Ryder, or Dagan, or me, or anyone else to take care of you. Remember that. You are enough.

I don’t know how to make inedible desserts,” Arwen grumbled. Nor did she want to learn that skill. “The dwarves will have to enjoy a non-challenging dessert.” Maybe if she wrapped the brittle in multiple layers of Saran wrap, they would struggle to open it, and that would satisfy their need for discomfort in life.