Frodo: I can’t do this, Sam.
Sam: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights, we shouldn’t even be here.
It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered.
Full of darkness and danger, they were.
And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end, because how could the end be happy?
I’m cleaning (err, clearing) out The Parents’ basement and found my planner from my junior year of high school. I journal everywhere, and planners were no exception.
My love and obsession for Lord of the Rings was lost long ago. Sometimes nowadays, I wonder why I loved it so much. I mean, that obsession started when I read The Hobbit in seventh or eighth grade and continued on to a certain, unknown point.
I used to (actually, I still) correct how others pronounce Tolkien. (It’s Toll-keen.)
However, these mementos make more sense. I identified with these little conversations and ideas. Perhaps, it’s similar to the main reason I had liked Perks of Being a Wallflower was because of a poem [that was not a product of the book’s author] mentioned in the story, and not because of the actual story.
Then again, perhaps I just thought it neat that it is one of those stories told in the form of letters written to an anonymous stranger.
It appears I am attracted to the same type of… quotes.
[…] Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turnin’ back… only they didn’t.
They kept goin’, because they were holdin’ on to somethin’.
Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?
Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.