Sam: What are you up to? Sneaking off, are we?
Gollum: Sneaking? Sneaking? Fat hobbit is always so polite. Smeagol shows them secret ways that nobody else could find, and they say sneak. Sneak? Very nice friend. Oh, yes, my precious. Very nice, very nice.
Sam: All right all right! You just startled me is all. What were you doing?
Gandalf: They guard it because they have hope. A faint and fading hope that one day it will flower. That a king will come and this city will be as it once was before it fell into decay. The old wisdom born out of the west was forsaken. Kings made tombs more splendid than the houses of the living and counted the old names of their descent dearer than the names of their sons. Childless lords sat in aged halls musing on heraldry or in high, cold towers asking questions of the stars. And so the people of Gondor fell into ruin. The line of Kings failed. The white tree withered. The rule of Gondor was given over to lesser men.
Sam: Then let us be rid of it...once and for all! Come on, Mr. Frodo, I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you!
Aragorn: Stand your ground, stand your ground! Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers! I see in your eyes, the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come, when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends, and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of wolves, and shattered shields when the age of men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight! For all that you hold dear, on this good earth, I bid you stand, men of the west!
Bilbo: Tell me again... Where are we going?
Frodo: To the harbor, Bilbo. The elves have accorded you a high honor; a place on the last ship to leave Middle Earth.
Bilbo: Any chance of me seeing that old ring again? Hmm? The one I gave you?
Frodo: I'm sorry, uncle... I'm afraid I lost it.
Bilbo: Oh... Pity. I should have liked to have held it one last time.
Pippin: I never thought it would end this way.
Gandalf: End? No, the journey does not end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take... The grey rain curtain of this world rolls back and all turns to silver glass... And then you see it...
Pippin: What, Gandalf? See what?
Gandalf: White shores... And beyond... A far green country under a swift sunrise.
Pippin: Well, that isn't so bad.
Gandalf: No... No, it isn't.