The world is changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it. It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Seven to the Dwarf lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of men, who, above all else, desire power. But they were, all of them, deceived, for another Ring was made. In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a master Ring, to control all others. And into this Ring he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life.

Galadriel

Frodo: Wait... there are markings. It's some form of Elvish, I can't read it.
Gandalf: There are few who can. The language is the that of Mordor, which I will not utter here.
Frodo: Mordor?
Gandalf: In the common tongue it reads "One Ring to Rule Them All. One Ring to Find Them. One Ring to Bring Them All and In The Darkness Bind Them."

There is no curse in Elvish, Entish, or the tongues of men for this treachery. My business is with Isengard tonight, with rock and stone. Come, my friends. The Ents are going to war. It is likely that we go to our doom. The last march of the Ents.

Treebeard

Look to my coming on the first light of the fifth day, at dawn look to the east.

Gandalf

Aragorn: The Beacons of Minas Tirith! The Beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid.
Theoden: And Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirrim. Assemble the army at Dunharrow. As many men as can be found. You have two days. On the third, we ride for Gondor and war.

I'm old, Gandalf. I know I don't look it but I'm beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel thin... sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread. I need a holiday. A very long holiday. And I don't expect I shall return. In fact I mean not to.

Bilbo

Elrond: I give hope to men.
Aragorn: I keep none for myself.

Frodo: I will take it. I will take the Ring to Mordor...
[Everyone falls silent]
Frodo: ...though I do not know the way.

Legolas: [Looking at two pictures in a locket that he has confiscated from Gloin. The picture on the left has a long thick beard] Who is this? Your brother?
Gloin: That is my wife!
Legolas: [Looking at the infant in the other picture] And who is this horrid creature? A goblin mutant?
Gloin: That is my wee lad, Gimli!

Bard the Bowman: You have no right to enter that mountain!
Thorin Oakenshield: I have the ONLY right!

No tomb for Denethor and Faramir. No long, slow sleep of death embalmed. We shall burn, like the heathen kings of old. Bring wood and oil.

Denethor

Saruman: If the wall is breached, Helm's Deep will fall.
Wormtongue: Even if it is breached, it will take a number beyond reckoning, thousands, to storm the keep.
Saruman: Tens of thousands.
Wormtongue: But, my lord, there is no such force.

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