“There is no real going back. Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same; for I shall not be the same. I am wounded with knife, sting, and tooth, and a long burden. Where shall I find rest?”
How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart, you begin to understand, there is no going back?
By rights we shouldn’t even be here… but we are.
“I made a promise: Don’t you leave him, Samwise Gamgee. And I don’t mean to.”
“If you let them go, your life will be forfeit.”
“Then it is forfeit.”