— Everything all right? Gandalf, where are you going?
— To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense.
— And who's that?
— Myself, Mr. Baggins.
— Good morning.
— What do you mean? Do you 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? Hm? All of them at once, I suppose.
It's not that I don't like visitors. I like visitors as much as the next Hobbit. But I do like to know them before they come visiting.
— You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back.
— Can you promise that I will come back?
— No. And if you do... you will not be the same.
— Oh, I've had enough of this lippy Lakeman. I say we throw him over the side and be done with it.
— Bard, his name's Bard.
— How do you know?
— Uh, I asked him.
— Are there any? Other Wizards?
— There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards... Do you know, I've quite forgotten their names.
— And who is the fifth?
— Well, that would be Radagast the Brown.
— Is he a great Wizard? Or is he more like you?
— It... I picked it up in Beorn's garden.
— You've carried it all this way?
— I'm gonna plant it in my garden. In Bag End.
— It's a poor prize to take back to the Shire.
— One day, it'll grow. And every time I look at it, I'll remember. Remember everything that happened, the good, the bad... and how lucky I am that I made it home.
Bilbo: — "Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one-fourteenth of total profit, if any." Hmm. Seems fair. "Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by... or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to lacerations... evisceration..." Incineration?
Bofur: — Aye. He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye.
Balin: — You all right, laddie?
Bilbo: — Huh? Yeah. Feel a bit faint.
Bofur: — Think furnace with wings.
Bilbo: — Air. I need air.
Bofur: — Flash of light, searing pain, then poof. You're nothing more than a pile of ash.
Bilbo: — Hmm. Nope.
— I can't just go running off into the blue. I am a Baggins of Bag-end.
— You are also a Took. Did you know that your great-great-great-great-uncle Bullroarer Took... was so large, he could ride a real horse?
— Yes.
— Yes, well, he could. ln the Battle of Green Fields, he charged the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard, it knocked the Goblin king's head clean off... and it sailed 1 00 yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus, the battle was won. And the game of golf invented at the same time.
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