I know you doubt me, I know you always have. And you’re right. I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden. See, that’s where I belong. That’s home. That’s why I came back, ‘cause you don’t have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can.
“Good morning.” “What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?”
“All of them at once, I suppose.”
how could the world go back to the way it was after so much bad had happened? but in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow.even darkness must pass. a new day will come, and when the sun shines it’ll shine out the clearer. those were the stories that stayed with you, that meant something, even if you were too small to understand why.