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I first read it in 1964 or 1965, don't remember which. That would make me 12 or 13. I read it in a bomb shelter that my grandfather had built in a small house in southern Minnesota (so basically, the middle of nowhere). I stayed down there almost continuously for several days until I finished LOTR. Read the Hobbit later. Definitely an epiphany on the first reading...
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`These are indeed strange days,' he muttered. `Dreams and legends spring to life out of the grass.'
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