Don't own this. Never have, never will.
Darn.
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It calls to me. Even now as the hobbit holds it towards me, telling me to take it for my own, it calls me by every name I am called in Middle-earth and more besides. Olórin, Mithrandir, Incánus, Tharkûn. It will not relent, and I see in my mind visions of a green and splendid earth free of darkness and danger, where all shall forever dwell in peace. I wield it for the good of all, and there is no want, nor war, nor fear and pain. But I cannot take it. I must not, for I alone know what this thing is, and to take it now would be to destroy the whole of the world.