|
c13dde2
|
It is mine, I tell you. My own. My precious. Yes, my precious.
|
|
book-1
chapter-1
gandalf
ring
precious
lord-of-the-rings
|
J.R.R. Tolkien |
|
fcc9cc1
|
Rings try to find their way back to their owner. Someone ought to write a book about it.
|
|
humor
ring
|
Terry Pratchett |
|
b9cddac
|
"Frodo gave a cry, and there was, fallen upon his knees at the chasm's edge. But Gollum, dancing like a mad thing, held aloft the ring, a finger still thrust within its circle. "Precious, precious, precious!" Gollum cried. "My Precious! O my Precious!" And with that, even as his eyes were lifted up to gloat on his prize, he stepped too far, toppled, wavered for a moment on the brink, and then with a shriek he fell. Out of the depths came his last wail precious, and he was gone."
|
|
tolkien
mad
danc
mount-doom
the-one-ring-j-r-r-tolkien
finger
ring
frodo-baggins
samwise-gamgee
the-lord-of-the-rings
the-return-of-the-king
cry
gollum
|
J.R.R. Tolkien |
|
7fd2139
|
Say rather that the Ring has no power over him. He is his own master. But he cannot alter the Ring itself, nor break its power over others. And now he is withdrawn into a little land, within bounds that he has set, though none can see them, waiting perhaps for a change of days, and he will not step beyond them.
|
|
fantasy
tom-bombadil
ring
|
J.R.R. Tolkien |
|
10d25d9
|
Her gaze dropped to the right side of his mouth, to the corner of his lip that was permanently pulled into a slight snarl by the edge of the angry scar, and then to the other side of his mouth, to the sensuous curve of his lips. She raised her hand, reaching out to touch that perfect curl. She stilled, her hand hovering, as the sunlight glinted off the ruby ring on her finger. It was a pretty little ring, delicate and made for a woman. In any other circumstances she would've worn it with happiness. Here, though... Well it was almost a mark of possession, wasn't it? Iris inhaled and jerked her hand back before she made contact. This man might be her 'husband' now- courtesy of a series of terrible events and his own stubbornness, but he was still a stranger. A stranger she wasn't even sure she could entirely trust.
|
|
scar
ring
raphael-de-chartres
|
Elizabeth Hoyt |
|
6e1baa2
|
"Raphael lifted his good hand- it felt uncommonly heavy- and stirred a finger through the jewels until he found the ring. His hand trembled as he lifted the ring from the box. "Lock it again and give the key ring to Her Excellency." Nicoletta pursed her lips but did as he said. His duchess merely looked bewildered on being handed a key to a treasure box. "It is yours now," he said, his voice... Something was wrong with his breath. He gasped. "As my wife. As my duchess. This is yours as well." He took her hand- so warm in his- and placed the heavy-chained ring on her finger. It wouldn't fit her ring finger- his mother had been a fragile creature with very thin hands. Instead he pushed it onto the smallest finger of her right hand. The sight of it there, glowing gold, the central round ruby burnished with the years it had guarded his mother's family, satisfied something within him. His hand dropped to the bed like lead weights. "Protect her," he whispered to Ubertino as the room darkened. Someone was weeping. Nicoletta? "Promise me. Protect her."
|
|
ring
raphael-de-chartres
|
Elizabeth Hoyt |