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"Come my friend" said Boromir softly "lend me the ring that I might vanquish our enemies".Frodo slowly raised an eyebrow and gazed disdainfully at the tall Gondorian. "Boromir" he quipped "the chances of you getting your hands on this ring are about as high as the ankle socks on a very small beetle that's crouching in a ditch... in a quarry... in the Low countries"
***
'What a fix!' said Sam. 'That's the one place in all the lands that we've heard of that we don't want to see any closer, and that's the one place we're trying to get to! And that's just where we can't get nohow. We've come the wrong way altogether, seemingly. We can't get down; and if we did get down we'd find all that green land a nasty bog, I'll warrant. Phew! can you smell it?' He sniffed at the wind.
"Of course I can smell it, Sam.' replied Frodo drily 'Though how you, the six-time winner of the All-County "Armpits like a hill troll's privy" Championship can smell anything is beyond me...in fact, being up to my codpiece in festering marshland sounds like a picnic compared to five minute downwind of you"