I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow!
The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it.. White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.
Hope guides me. It is what gets me through the day and especially the night. The hope that after you're gone from my sight it will not be the last time I look upon you.