Then the voices of the Ainur, like unto harps and lutes, and pipes and trumpets, and viols and organs, and like unto countless choirs singing with words, began to fashipn the theme of Iluvatar to a great music; and a sound arose of endless interchanging melodies woven in harmony that passed beyond hearing into the depths and into the heights, and the places of the dwelling of Iluvatar were filled to overflowing, and the music and the echo of the music went out into the Void, and it was not void.
Interpretation
This quote describes the creation of the universe through music, showcasing the beauty of collaboration and harmony.
In this poetic excerpt from J.R.R. Tolkien, the Ainur, divine beings, create the world through a grand and harmonious musical theme given by Iluvatar. The quote highlights the profound connection between creativity and existence, illustrating how the sound of their collective voices not only shapes the cosmos but also fills the void with meaning, suggesting that art and music have the power to transcend the physical realms and connect us to something greater.
In practice
Using this quote in a speech about the importance of creativity in society.
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.
The war is dreadful. It is the business of the artist to follow it home to the heart of the individual fighters - not to talk in armies and nations and numbers - but to track it home.
A work can have in it a pent-up energy, an intense life of its own, independent of the subject it may represent.
No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style.
The power of both myth and art is this magical ability to open doors, to make connections - not only between us and the natural world, but between us and the rest of humanity. Myths show us what we have in common with every other human being, no matter what culture we come from, no matter what century we live in. . .and at the same time, mythic stories and art celebrate our essential differences.
It is a function of poetry to locate those zones inside us that would be free, and declare them so.
The voice is raised, and that is where poetry begins. And even today, in the prolonged aftermath of modernism, in places where "open form" or free verse is the orthodoxy, you will find a memory of that raising of the voice in the term "heightened speech".
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