I'm rightly tired of the pain I hear and feel, boss. I'm tired of bein on the road, lonely as a robin in the rain. Not never havin no buddy to go on with or tell me where we's comin from or goin to or why. I'm tired of people bein ugly to each other. It feels like pieces of glass in my head. I'm tired of all the times I've wanted to help and couldn't. I'm tired of bein in the dark. Mostly it's the pain. There's too much. If I could end it, I would.
You will still have to taste the bitterness of mortality. Whether by the sword or the slow decay of time, Aragorn will die. And there will be no comfort for you. No comfort to ease the pain of his passing. He will come to death. An image of the splendor of the kings of men in glory, undimmed before the breaking of the world. But you, my daughter... you will linger on in darkness and in doubt, as night falling winter has come without a star. Here you will dwell... bound to you grief, under the fading trees... until all the world has changed... and the long years of your life are utterly spent.