When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.
All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.
There is some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.
It is no bad thing celebrating a simple life.
I will not say, do not weep, for not all tears are an evil.
I am going with him, if he climbs to the Moon.
Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life.
It is plain that we were meant to go together.
For you do not yet know the strengths of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet on the road.
If you sit on the doorstep long enough, I daresay you will think of something.
Bilbo saw that the moment had come when he must do something.
Struck by lightning! Struck by lightning!
That was the most awkward Wednesday he ever remembered.
There are other men, and other lives, and time still to be.
Where there are so many, all speech becomes a debate without end. But two together may perhaps find wisdom.
If we all got angry together something might be done.
I felt a curious thrill, as if something had stirred in me, half wakened from sleep. There was something very remote and strange and beautiful behind those words, if I could grasp it, far beyond ancient English.
We must do without hope.
And what would you do, if an uninvited dwarf came and hung his things up in your hall without a word of explanation?
The road goes ever on and on.
The washing-up was so dismally real that Bilbo was forced to believe the party of the night before had not been part of his bad dreams, as he had rather hoped.