Burn, burn tree and fern! Shrivel and scorch! A fizzling torch To light the night for our delight, Ya hey! Bake and toast ‘em, fry and roast ‘em! till beards blaze, and eyes glaze; till hair smells and skins crack, fat melts, and bones black in cinders lie beneath the sky! So dwarves shall die, and light the night for our delight, Ya hey! Ya-harri-hey! Ya hoy!
Interpretation
This quote captures the imaginative and celebratory nature of storytelling and creation, reflecting joy in destruction for the sake of beauty and illumination.
In this vivid and extravagant passage by J. R. R. Tolkien, the author employs powerful imagery and a sense of dramatic revelry as he describes the act of burning trees and other natural elements. The quote resonates with themes of creativity, the duality of destruction and celebration, and the enchanting nature of storytelling, where even the most destructive acts are framed as a source of delight and wonder. It suggests that transformation, even through chaos, can yield beauty and joy, a testament to the art of narrative and creativity.
In practice
Great for a creative writing workshop to inspire participants about the beauty of destruction in storytelling.
All the same, I should like it all plain and clear," said he obstinately, putting on his business manner (usually reserved for people who tried to borrow money off him), and doing his best to appear wise and prudent and professional and live up to Gandalf's recommendation. "Also I should like to know about risks, out-of-pocket expenses, time required and remuneration, and so forth"--by which he meant: "What am I going to get out of it ? and am I going to come back alive?
Go not to the Elves for counsel,_x000D_ for they will say both no and yes._x000D_ Elves seldom give unguarded advice,_x000D_ for advice is a dangerous gift,_x000D_ even from the wise to the wise,_x000D_ and all courses may run ill.
What did I tell you, Mr. Pippin?' said Sam, sheathing his sword. 'Wolves won't get him. That was an eye-opener, and no mistake! Nearly singed the hair off my head!
Under the Mountain dark and tall The King has come unto his hall! His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread, And ever so his foes shall fall. The sword is sharp, the spear is long, The arrow swift, the Gate is strong; The heart is bold that looks on gold; The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fells like ringing bells In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells. -from The Hobbit (Dwarves Battle Song)
The chief purpose of life, for any of us, is to increase according to our capacity our knowledge of God by all means we have, and to be moved by it to praise and thanks.
Alive without breath, As cold as death; Never thirsty, ever drinking, All in mail never clinking.
While an artist can choose whether or not to be responsive and responsible towards other human beings, by definition a designer must be.
I'm one of those people who says, 'yes, cinema died when they invented sound.'
The notion of sitting down and conjuring up, not only words in which to clothe thoughts but thoughts worthy of being clothed--the whole thing was absurdly beyond his desires.
Whenever I start writing, I try to put together songs that feed the feeling of the movie.
And I want to rise up, throw my arms open for a vast embrace, address an ample, luminous discourse to the invisible crowds. I would start like this: "O rainbow-colored gods. . .
There were three of us; Witkiewicz, Bruno Schulz, and myself--the three muskateers of the Polish avant-garde between the wars. Only Witkiewicz remains to be discovered.
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