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rheasilvia... asks The Straight Dope.
Had there been a ring, once, destined to bring justice, then maybe it would have been given to a hobbit, one of stout heart and furry feet. Maybe the hobbit would have defended it from the hollow-souled nazgul mounted on their death-bleached stallions, and carried it safely through dark stone dwarven halls, through the brick, wood and steel of the cities of men, and even the luminous green forests of elves. And if that hobbit had been given companions, how certain would his heart have been, how fleet and sure his furry feet. Surely he would never have faltered until you would have heard his hand knocking on your door.
But the ring was not called justice, and no such ring could ever have been given to any bearer. Even if such a ring existed, even if a bearer could be found, the tenebrous dwarven halls are endless and cannot be traversed by even the most courageous and wise, and even if this were possible, no one could ever pass through all the cities of men, infinite with noise and crowds, and even if this barrier were breachable, beyond these cities lie the elven forests, impenetrable and eternal, forever unmoved by the concerns of mere mortal men. And you will wait in vain for the sound of a hand knocking on your door, oblivious to the passage of months and years, until you lie on your death-bed, still listening, and you will die without hearing anything but the faltering beat of your own heart.
-- Franz Kafka
Had there been a ring, once, destined to bring justice, then maybe it would have been given to a hobbit, one of stout heart and furry feet. Maybe the hobbit would have defended it from the hollow-souled nazgul mounted on their death-bleached stallions, and carried it safely through dark stone dwarven halls, through the brick, wood and steel of the cities of men, and even the luminous green forests of elves. And if that hobbit had been given companions, how certain would his heart have been, how fleet and sure his furry feet. Surely he would never have faltered until you would have heard his hand knocking on your door.
But the ring was not called justice, and no such ring could ever have been given to any bearer. Even if such a ring existed, even if a bearer could be found, the tenebrous dwarven halls are endless and cannot be traversed by even the most courageous and wise, and even if this were possible, no one could ever pass through all the cities of men, infinite with noise and crowds, and even if this barrier were breachable, beyond these cities lie the elven forests, impenetrable and eternal, forever unmoved by the concerns of mere mortal men. And you will wait in vain for the sound of a hand knocking on your door, oblivious to the passage of months and years, until you lie on your death-bed, still listening, and you will die without hearing anything but the faltering beat of your own heart.
-- Franz Kafka
