Gandalf: End? This is not the end. Death is just another path, one that we all must take.
This just about killed me.
Sam: Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo? It’ll be spring soon, and the orchards will be in blossom, and the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And they’ll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields… and eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries?
Frodo: No, Sam. I can’t recall the taste of food, nor the sound of water, not the touch of grass. Instead, I’m… naked in the dark. There’s nothing, no veil, between me… and the wheel of fire! I can see him… with my waking eyes!
Sam: Then let us be rid of it! Once and for all! Come on, Mr Frodo. I can’t carry it for you… but I can carry you! Come on!
Sam: 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? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.