Yet seldom do they fail of their seed, And that will lie in the dust and rot to spring up again in times and places unlooked-for. The deeds of Men will outlast us.

Pay heed to the tales of old wives. It may well be that they alone keep in memory what it was once needful for the wise to know.

I do not believe this darkness will endure.

A sudden understanding, a pity mixed with horror, welled up in Bilbo's heart: a glimpse of endless unmarked days without light or hope of betterment, hard stone, cold fish, sneaking and whispering. All these thoughts passed in a flash of a second. He trembled. And then quite suddenly in another flash, as if lifted by a new strength and resolve, he leaped.

Not all that have fallen are vanquished.

Let him go, you filth! Let him go! You will not touch him again!

It is not despair, for despair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt. We do not.