Language upon a silvered tongue affords enchantment enough.
English, no longer, an English language, now grows from many roots.
I don't think I've ever quite grown out of it, actually. There was a point where I could recite some of those Elvish verses - which I've mercifully forgotten. But I can still, if really pushed, recite the text of the inside of the ruling ring in the language of Mordor.
And at the end of the day, there was an attempt to suppress a book. The book wasn't suppressed. It's freely available in whatever it is, close to 50 languages. There was an attempt to suppress the writer. And I'm happy to say the writer wasn't suppressed.
We were language's magpies by nature, stealing whatever sounded bright and shiny.
I discovered that if you find the language to talk to younger readers, children can accept anything.
Language is courage: the ability to conceive a thought, to speak it, and by doing so to make it true.