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Bilbo: I'll be alright. Just let me sit quietly for a moment.
Gandalf: You've been sitting quietly for far too long! Tell me, when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of Elves in the woods. He'd stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would've liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there.
Bilbo: I can't just go running off into the blue! I am a Baggins...[whimpers]...of Bag End!
Gandalf: 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?
Bilbo: Yes.
Gandalf: Well, he could! At the Battle of Greenfields, he charged the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard, it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off and it sailed a hundred 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.
Bilbo: I do believe you made that up.
Gandalf: Well, all good stories deserve embellishment. You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back.
Bilbo: Can you promise that I will come back?
Gandalf: No. And if you do... you will not be the same.
Bilbo: That's what I thought. Sorry, Gandalf. I can't sign this. You've got the wrong hobbit.


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