Хоббит

- If you can't come back, hoot twice like a barn-owl and once like a screech-owl, and we will do what we can.
Off Bilbo had to go, before he could explain that he could not hoot even once like any kind of owl any more than fly like a bat.

The less inquisitive you are as you go along, the less trouble you are likely to find.

If I say he is a Burglar, a Burglar he is, or will be when the time comes. There is a lot more in him then you guess, and a deal more than he has any idea of himself.

The Took side had won. He suddenly felt he would go without bed and breakfast to be thought fierce.

Confusticate and bebother these dwarves!

“The Arkenstone! The Arkenstone!” murmured Thorin in the dark, half dreaming with his chin upon his knees. “It was like a globe with a thousand facets; it shone like silver in the firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stars, like rain upon the Moon!”

There it is: dwarves are not heroes, but calculating folk with a great idea of the value of money; some are tricky and treacherous and pretty bad lots; some are not, but are decent enough people like Thorin and Company, if you don’t expect too much.

The washing-up was so dismally real that Bilbo was forced to believe the party of the night before had not been part of his bad dreams, as he had rather hoped.

“Where are you going?” said Thorin, in a tone that seemed to show that he guessed both halves of the hobbit’s mind.
“What about a little light?” said Bilbo apologetically.
“We like the dark,” said the dwarves. “Dark for dark business! There are many hours before dawn.”

As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves.

“What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!”