There’s a scene I love, toward the end of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, after the adventure is over and ordinary life has begun anew: Our heroes, Frodo and Sam and Pippin and Merry, are drinking at the local pub, when Sam spots a girl across the room who he’s admired from afar all his life. Something flickers across his face, equal parts desire and determination; this is his moment, his destiny.
But before Sam makes his move, he does one more thing: He throws back his pint.
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