"We will make such a chase as shall be accounted a marvel among the Three Kindreds: Elves, Dwarves and Men. Forth the Three Hunters!" Like a deer he sprang away. Through the trees he sped. On and on he led them, tireless and swift, now that his mind was at last made up. The woods about the lake they left behind. Long slopes they climbed, dark, hard-edged against the sky already red with sunset. They passed away, grey shadows in a stony land.

Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!

Shall we mourn here deedless forever a shadow-folk mist-haunting dropping vain tears in the thankless sea

Well, here at last, dear friends, on the shores of the Sea comes the end of our fellowship in Middle-earth. Go in peace! I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

Together we will take the road that leads into the West, And far away will find a land where both our hearts may rest.

Touching your cap to the Squire may be damn bad for the Squire, but it's damn good for you.

We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!