In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.

Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
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"'Are you still of the same mind?' 'My mind does not change with the rising and setting of a few suns,' answered Thorin."
You've been officially labeled a "Disturber of the peace."
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Bill the Pony for President of Middle Earth (pardon the abundance of F words)