Orcs, and talking trees, and leagues of grass, and galloping riders, and glittering caves, and white towers and golden halls, and battles, and tall ships sailing, all these passed before Sam's mind.

I will not walk backward in life.

And yet their wills did not yield, and they struggled on.

I don't know, and I would rather not guess.

Tears unnumbered ye shall shed.

Over the field rang his clear voice calling: ‘Death! Ride, ride to ruin and the world’s ending!

Sam, clinging to Frodo's arm, collapsed on a step in the black darkness. 'Poor old Bill!' he said in a choking voice. 'Poor old Bill! Wolves and snakes! But the snakes were too much for him. I had to choose, Mr. Frodo. I had to come with you.