— Nine companions... So be it! You shall be the fellowship of the ring.
— Great. Where are we going?
— I didn't think it would end this way.
— End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path one that we all must take. The grey rain curtain of this world rolls back and all change to silver glass. And then you see it.
— What, Gandalf? See what?
— White shores. And beyond... A far green Country under a swift sunrise.
— It’s talking, Merry. The tree is talking!
— Tree?! I am no tree. I am an Ent.
— A treeherder! A shepherd of the forest!
— Don’t talk to it, Merry. Don’t encourage it.
— Treebeard, some call me.
— And whose side are you on?
— Side? I am on nobody’s side... because nobody’s on my side, little Orc. Nobody cares for the woods anymore.
— You, young rascals! A merry hunt you've lead us on, and now we find you feasting and... and smoking!
— We are sitting on the field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is particulary good!