“Then, Éowyn of Rohan, I say to you that you are beautiful. In the valleys of our hills there are flowers fair and bright, and maidens fairer still; but neither flower nor lady have I seen till now in Gondor so lovely, and so sorrowful.”
And you can trust us to keep any secret of yours – closer than you keep it yourself.
Merry Brandybuck, The Fellowship of the Ring.
To the King!
My uncle told me a strange thing. He said that you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather. But he must be mistaken. King Théoden has a good memory. He was only a small child at the time. Then you must be at least sixty. Seventy?
Endowed with the tremendous vitality of Elvish bodies, so hard and resistant to hurt that he went only in light shoes over rock or through snow, the most tireless of all the Fellowship.
Shadowfax. He’s the lord of all horses and he’s been my friend through many dangers.
Gentlemen, we do not stop until nightfall. What about breakfast?
Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror… King under the Mountain.