In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl. A great black shape against the fires beyond he loomed up, grown to a vast menace of despair. In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl, under the archway that no enemy ever yet had passed, and all fled before his face.
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings. The Return of the King, p.99. (via fuckyeahvikingsandcelts)