|
be7c035
|
"Farewell," they cried, "Wherever you fare till your eyries receive you at the journey's end!" That is the polite thing to say among eagles. "May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," answered Gandalf, who knew the correct reply."
|
|
farewell
hobbit
tolkien
|
J.R.R. Tolkien |
|
df00ac7
|
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.
|
|
elves
elvish
farewell
|
J.R.R. Tolkien |
|
d17cf81
|
For , literally translated, 'Since it must be so,' of all the good-bys I have heard is the most beautiful. Unlike the and , it does not try to cheat itself by any bravado 'Till we meet again,' any sedative to postpone the pain of separation. It does not evade the issue like the sturdy blinking . is a father's . It is - 'Go out in the world and do well, my son.' It is encouragement and admonition. It is hope and faith. But it passes over the significance of the moment; of parting it says nothing. It hides its emotion. It says too little. While ('God be with you') and say too much. They try to bridge the distance, almost to deny it. is a prayer, a ringing cry. 'You must not go - I cannot bear to have you go! But you shall not go alone, unwatched. God will be with you. God's hand will over you' and even - underneath, hidden, but it is there, incorrigible - 'I will be with you; I will watch you - always.' It is a mother's . But says neither too much nor too little. It is a simple acceptance of fact. All understanding of life lies in its limits. All emotion, smoldering, is banked up behind it. But it says nothing. It is really the unspoken good-by, the pressure of a hand, 'Sayonara.
|
|
emotion
english
farewell
father
french
german
god
goodbyes
japanese
mother
spanish
|
Anne Morrow Lindbergh |
|
f5ae23f
|
The knowledge that he had left me with no intent ever to return had come over me in tiny droplets of realization spread over the years. And each droplet of comprehension brought its own small measure of hurt...He had wished me well in finding my own fate to follow, and I never doubted his sincerity. But it had taken me years to accept that his absence in my life was a deliberate finality, an act he had chosen, a thing completed even as some part of my soul still dangled, waiting for his return.
|
|
choose
comprehension
desire
farewell
fate
fitz
follow
fool
hurt
knowledge
leave
left
pain
part-ways
realize
return
seek
separate
sincere
sorrow
soul
understanding
wait
wish
|
Robin Hobb |
|
36b68c6
|
It was a cool day and very clear. You could see a long way-but not as far as Velma had gone.
|
|
farewell
noir
velma
|
Raymond Chandler |
|
e48dd69
|
There should have been a better farewell. But in the end, there never is. And we take what meagre scraps we can find.
|
|
farewell
goodbyes
|
Richard K. Morgan |
|
92f50bb
|
If they came sorrowing, and wanting sympathy in a complicated trouble like the present, then they would be felt as a shadow in all these houses of intimate acquaintances, not friends
|
|
farewell
north-and-south
|
Elizabeth Gaskell |
|
afcafea
|
She loved your mother', Taliesin said gently. 'This is her farewell.' As he spoke, a chanted melody began inside the chamber, a song without words. Yet it spoke of the beauty in the heart of the flame, of the passing glory of the white bird on the wing, and the blossom of the sea spray under the shining prow. It sang of a mother with her baby, of the hard love between men and women, and the gentle rest that comes at last to all.
|
|
farewell
grief
|
Rosalind Miles |