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"I’ll get there, if I leave everything but my bones behind," said Sam. "And I’ll carry Mr. Frodo up myself, 
if it breaks my back and heart."

...

The last stage of their journey to Orodruin came, and it was a torment greater than Sam had ever thought that he could bear. 
He was in pain, and so parched that he could no longer swallow even a mouthful of food. It remained dark, not only because of the 
smokes of the Mountain: there seemed to be a storm coming up, and away to the south-east there was a shimmer of lightnings 
under the black skies. Worst of all, the air was full of fumes; breathing was painful and difficult, and a dizziness came on them,
so that they staggered and often fell. And yet their wills did not yield, and they struggled on.

bigh0rnyman

"You’ve got it?" gasped Frodo. "You’ve got it here? Sam, you’re a marvel!"
Then quickly and strangely his tone changed. "Give it to me!" he cried, standing up, holding out a trembling hand. 
"Give it me at once! You can’t have it!"

"All right, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, rather startled. "Here it is!’ Slowly he drew the Ring out and passed the chain over his head. 
"But you’re in the land of Mordor now, sir; and when you get out, you’ll see the Fiery Mountain and all.
You’ll find the Ring very dangerous now, and very hard to bear. If it’s too hard a job, I could share it with you, maybe?"

"No, no!" cried Frodo, snatching the Ring and chain from Sam’s hands. "No you won’t, you thief!" 

bigh0rnyman

"What? Me, alone, go to the Crack of Doom and all?" He quailed still, but the resolve grew. 
"What? Me take the Ring from him? The Council gave it to him."
But the answer came at once: "And the Council gave him companions, so that the errand should not fail. 
And you are the last of all the Company. The errand must not fail."

...

"Let me see now: if we're found here, or Mr. Frodo's found, and that Thing's on him, well, the Enemy will get it. 
And that's the end of all of us, of Lorien, and Rivendell, and the Shire and all. And there's no time to lose, 
or it'll be the end anyway. The war's begun, and more than likely things are all going the Enemy's way already. 

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"Coming, Mr. Frodo! Coming!" called Sam, and flung himself from the bank, clutching at the departing boat. 
He missed it by a yard. With a cry and a splash he fell face downward into deep swift water. Gurgling he went under, 
and the River closed over his curly head.

An exclamation of dismay came from the empty boat. A paddle swirled and the boat put about. Frodo was just in time to grasp Sam 
by the hair as he came up, bubbling and struggling. Fear was staring in his round brown eyes.

"Up you come, Sam my lad! ' said Frodo. `Now take my hand!"
 ...
 

bigh0rnyman

No one answered. The noon-bell rang. Still no one spoke. Frodo glanced at all the faces, but they were not turned to him. 
All the Council sat with downcast eyes, as if in deep thought. A great dread fell on him, 
as if he was awaiting the pronouncement of some doom that he had long foreseen and vainly hoped might after all never be spoken.
An overwhelming longing to rest and remain at peace by Bilbo's side in Rivendell filled all his heart. 
At last with an effort he spoke, and wondered to hear his own words, as if some other will was using his small voice.
"I will take the Ring," he said, "though I do not know the way."
...

[Elrond:] "But it is a heavy burden. So heavy that none could lay it on another. I do not lay it on you. But if you take it freely, 
I will say that your choice is right; and though all the mighty elf-friends of old, Hador, and Húrin, and Túrin, and Beren 

bigh0rnyman

But Shelob was not as dragons are, no softer spot had she save only her eyes. Knobbed and pitted with corruption was her age-old hide, 
but ever thickened from within with layer on layer of evil growth. The blade scored it with a dreadful gash, 
but those hideous folds could not be pierced by any strength of men, not though Elf or Dwarf should forge the steel or 
the hand of Beren or of Túrin wield it. She yielded to the stroke, and then heaved up the great bag of her belly high above Sam's head. 
Poison frothed and bubbled from the wound. Now splaying her legs she drove her huge bulk down on him again. Too soon. 
For Sam still stood upon his feet, and dropping his own sword, with both hands he held the elven-blade point upwards, 
fending off that ghastly roof; and so Shelob, with the driving force of her own cruel will, 
with strength greater than any warrior's hand, thrust herself upon a bitter spike. Deep, deep it pricked, 
as Sam was crushed slowly to the ground.

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Laying hold of the staff with his left hand, Sam swung it up, and down it came with a whistling crack 
on Gollum's outstretched arm, just below the elbow. With a squeal Gollum let go. Then Sam waded in; 
not waiting to change the staff from left to right he dealt another savage blow. Quick as a snake Gollum 
slithered aside. and the stroke aimed at his head fell across his back. The staff cracked and broke.

- Two Towers, Shelob's Lair

bigh0rnyman

Then Sam played his last trick. With all his strength he pulled away and got his feet firmly planted; 
then suddenly he drove his legs against the ground and with his whole force hurled himself backwards.
Not expecting even this simple trick from Sam, Gollum fell over with Sam on top, and he received the weight 
of the sturdy hobbit in his stomach.

-Two Towers, Shelob's Lair

bigh0rnyman

Fury at the treachery, and desperation at the delay when his master was in deadly peril, 
gave to Sam a sudden violence and strength that was far beyond anything that Gollum had expected from 
this slow stupid hobbit, as he thought him. Not Gollum himself could have twisted more quickly or 
more fiercely. 

- Two Towers, Shelob's Lair

bigh0rnyman

With his remaining strength Sam leaped and caught the top, scrambled up, and dropped; and then he ran madly, 
sword blazing in hand, round a bend and up a winding tunnel.

-Two Towers, Choices of Master Samwise