The road goes ever on and on

His grief he will not forget; but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom.

And then her heart changed, or at least she understood it; and the winter passed, and the sun shone upon her.

He drew a deep breath. 'Well, I'm back,' he said.

No, sweet one. See, my precious: if we has it, then we can escape, even from Him, eh? Perhaps we grow very strong, stronger than Wraiths. Lord Smeagol? Gollum the Great? The Gollum! Eat fish every day, three times a day, fresh forum the sea. Most precious Gollum! Must have it...

Nobody believes me when I say that my long book is an attempt to create a world in which a form of language agreeable to my personal aesthetic might seem real. But it is true.