I'm Old, Gandalf
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I'm old, Gandalf. I know I don't look it, but I'm beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel thin. Sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread. I need a holiday. A very long holiday. And I don't expect I shall return. In fact, I mean not to.

Bilbo sits at his kitchen table. He has a distant look in his eye as he speaks.