"I should like to save the Shire, if I could - though there have been times when I thought the inhabitants too stupid and dull for words, and have felt that an earthquake or an invasion of dragons might be good for them. But I don't feel like that now. I feel that as long as the Shire lies behind, safe and comfortable, I shall find wandering more bearable: I shall know that somewhere there is a firm foothold, even if my feet cannot stand there again."

carrying the world around his neck

"I see no hope of it now. But I've got to do the best I can."

“You nearly cutting off my toes? Yes, Miss Three, I do believe I remember that. ” The hobbit all but snapped, and for all his height he seemed to be bearing down on the taller girl-child with a courage he had not shown nor had time to manifest when she had sprung upon him the last time. 

“No more touching of the toes, are we quite clear? I am not a doll, I am a Hobbit. If you should like to make dolls, I’m certain we can find a store that provides you perfectly rational ingredients with cloth and whatever odd things you’d care to do with them!”

He felt like he was once again lecturing Smeagol, who really didn’t slouch much differently, or speak much differently than the sleepy goddess who had nearly mauled him the first time. 

"And you will put your scissors away when we go, or you shan’t be seeing me again, and trust me, we hobbits are quite, difficult to find when we want to!” To keep her awake the tiny Ringbearer had to all but tug on a strand of her hair the entire time…