A Quote by J. R. R. Tolkien
"That's done it!" said Sam. "Now I've rung the front-door bell!"
Related Quotes
I've got my bell rung, and when I first came in the league, the term wasn't 'concussion,' it was 'getting dinged' or 'had your bell rung.' So I had my bell rung a few times.
I think he came to the front door and rang the bell, and Maggie let him in, and he said he had forgotten his key; so I think she must have been down stairs.
Well, you have now, Sam, dear Sam,' said Frodo, and he lay back in Sam's gentle arms, closing his eyes, like a child at rest when night-fears are driven away by some loved voice or hand. Sam felt that he could sit like that in endless happiness.
I've always said that I'm an employee and I respect that status but I'm the type of guy who walks in the front door and I'll walk out the front door if it's not right.
I don't want a door bell. I don't want anyone ringing my door bell... seems to be intrusive. They can call me on their cell phones.
When one bell is rung, by the sound of that one bell other bells will also vibrate. So it is with the dancing of the soul...it produces its reaction, and that again, will make other souls dance.
I've had my fill of Hitler. These conferences called by the ringing of a bell are not to my liking. The bell is rung when people call their servants. And besides, what kind of conferences are these? For five hours I am forced to listen to a monologue which is quite fruitless and boring
When a nation's young men are conservative, its funeral bell is already rung.
Do you feel better?” I asked Sam as he opened the door to the Volkswagen for me. “Yes,” he said. He was still a terrible liar. “Good,” I said. I was still a fantastic one.
The point is,” Caine continued, “you and I share something in common, Sam. We were born just three minutes apart.” Sam felt a tingle go up his spine. “Three minutes,” Caine said, moving closer. “You go first. And then me.” “No,” Sam said. “It can’t be.” “It can,” Caine said. “It is. And you are… brother.
Sam laughed, a funny, self-deprecating laugh. "You did read a lot. And spent too much time just inside the kitchen window, where I couldn't see you very well." "And not enough time mostly naked in front of my bedroom window?" I teased. Sam turned bright red. "That," he said, "is so not the point of this conversation.
The blogosphere is real, and it can be really harsh on fakes... so, if you're a phoney, you're going to get your bell rung.
It's nice to know there's a way to pay the bills other than third-and-8 and getting your bell rung.
If there were dreams to sell,
Merry and sad to tell,
And the crier rung his bell,
What would you buy?
When I played for the Steelers and I got my bell rung, I'd take smelling salts and go right back out there.
I started down but Sam caught my arm and knelt down himself to look. "For crying out loud," he said. "It's a racoon." "Poor thing," I said. "It could be a rabid baby-killer," Cole told me primly. "Shut up," Sam said pleasantly.
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