Ride out and meet them where they are at

Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

ride out and meet them where they are at

Aragorn: Ride out with me. Ride out and meet them. Th?oden: For death and Th?oden: Let this be the hour that we draw swords together. Fell deeds awake. Aragorn: Ride out with me. Ride out and meet them. Rings, Secrets of Middle- Earth: Inside Tolkien's "The Two Towers" delivers all that it promises and more. What brought they out of the foundered land over the flowing sea? It was a skyless world, in which his eye, through dim gulfs of shadowy air, saw only ever- mounting slopes, great walls of stone behind great walls, Ride, ride to ruin and the world's ending!' .. It is useless to meet revenge with revenge: it will heal nothing.

Only servants of the Dark Tower. We are bound to an errand of secrecy. Those who claim to oppose the enemy would do well not to hinder us. In fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men.

This in turn has given raise to the belief that there are no women. And that Dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground! Which is of course ridiculous. My uncle told me a strange thing.

He said that you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather. But he must be mistaken. He was only a small child at the time. Then you must be at least sixty. But you cannot be eighty! It was said that your race had passed into legend. There are few of us left. The Northern Kingdom was destroyed long ago. The ships are leaving for Valinor. Go now before it is too late. I have made my choice. He is not coming back. Why do you linger here when there is no hope?

There is still hope. If Aragorn survives this war, you will still be parted. If Sauron is defeated, and Aragorn made king and all that you hope for comes true, you will still have to taste the bitterness of mortality.

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Whether by the sword or the slow decay of time, Aragorn will die. And there will be no comfort for you. No comfort to ease the pain of his passing. He will come to death, an image of the splendour of the kings of men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world. But you, my daughter, you will linger on in darkness and in doubt, as nightfall in winter that comes without a star. Here you will dwell, bound to your grief, under the fading trees, until all the world is changed and the long years of your life are utterly spent.

Arwen, there is nothing for you here Our scouts report Saruman has attacked Rohan. But we must look to our own borders. Faramir, Orcs are on the move. Sauron is marshaling any army. Easterlings and Southrons are passing through the Black Gate. More come every day.

Who's covering the the river to the North? We pulled men at Osgiliath. If the city is attacked, we won't hold it. Saruman attacks from Isengard, Sauron from Mordor.

The fight will come to Men on both fronts. Sauron will strike us soon. And he will strike hard. He knows now we do not have the strength to repel him.

My men tell me that you are Orc spies. Now wait just a minute! Well, if you're not spies, then who are you? We are Hobbits of the Shire. Frodo Baggins is my name and this is Samwise Gamgee. And where is your skulking friend? He had an ill-favoured look. We set out from Rivendell with seven companions. One we lost in Moria. Two were my kin. A Dwarf there was also, and an Elf, and two Men: Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Boromir of Gondor.

Yes, for my part. It would grieve you, then, to learn that he is dead. As one of his companions, I had hope you would tell me. He was my brother.

Of course he did! I told you he was tricksy. I told you he was false. Master is our friend No, not it's business! Filthy little hobbitses, they stole it from us! What did they steal? The line is ranked 85 in the American Film Institute's list of the top movie quotations in American cinema. Does he seek to humble me with his newfound piety?

There were three who followed the wizard. An Elf, a Dwarf, and a Man. His cloth was poor. And yet, he bore a strange ring. Two serpents with emerald eyes, one devouring, the other one crowned with golden flowers. The Ring of Barahir. So Gandalf Greyhame thinks he's found Isildur's heir? The lost king of Gondor?

He is a fool. The line was broken years ago.

The World of Men shall fall. It will begin at Edoras. Helm's Deep has one weakness. It's outer wall is solid rock, but for a small culvert on its base, which is little more than a drain. How can fire undo stone? What kind of device will bring down the wall? If the wall is breached, Helm's Deep will fall. Even if it is breached, it would take a number beyond reckoning, thousands to storm the keep.

But, my lord, there is no such force. A new power is rising! Its victory is at hand! March to Helm's Deep! There will be no dawn A great host, you say? All Isengard is emptied. Ten thousand strong at least.

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It is an army bred for a single purpose: They will be here by nightfall. Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance. They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn, we've seen it before.

Crops can be resown. Within these walls we will outlast them. Down to the last child. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance. Send out riders, my lord, you must call for aid. And who will come? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead. Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell?! Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us?! Farmers, ferriers, stable boys.

These are no soldiers. Most have seen too many winters. You can see it in their eyes. They cannot win this fight. They are all going to die! Every villager able to wield a sword has been sent to the armory.

Who am I, Gamling? You are our king, sire. And do you trust your king? Your men, my lord, will follow you to whatever end.

Where is the horse and the rider? It is the way of my people to use light words at such times and say less than they mean. We fear to say too much. It robs us of the right words when a jest is out of place. It is best to love first what you are fitted to love, I suppose: Still there are things deeper and higher; and not a gaffer could tend his garden in what he calls peace but for them, whether he knows about them or not.

The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so the rightful king shall be known. The Last Debate[ edit ] It is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule. Justice shall be done upon him.

For wrongfully he has made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he should atone for his evils, and depart then for ever. The rider was robed all in black, and black was his lofty helm; yet this was no Ringwraith but a living man.

Or else his errand was one that you did not wish to fail? And now he shall endure the slow torment of years, as long and slow as our arts in the Great Tower can contrive, and never be released, unless maybe when he is changed and broken, so that he may come to you, and you shall see what you have done.

ride out and meet them where they are at

And then all the clouds rolled away, and the white sun shone, and at his command the vale of Gorgoroth became a garden of flowers and trees and brought forth fruit. He had only to put on the Ring and claim it for his own, and all this could be.

In that hour of trial it was the love of his master that helped most to hold him firm; but also deep down in him lived still unconquered his plain hobbit-sense: The one small garden of a free gardener was all his need and due, not a garden swollen to a realm; his own hands to use, not the hands of others to command. In western lands beneath the Sun the flowers may rise in Spring, the trees may bud, the waters run, the merry finches sing.

Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night and swaying beeches bear the Elven-stars as jewels white amid their branching hair. Though here at journey's end I lie in darkness buried deep, beyond all towers strong and high, beyond all mountains steep, above all shadows rides the Sun and Stars for ever dwell: I will not say the Day is done, nor bid the Stars farewell.

Frodo opened his eyes. The quest has failed Sam. Even if we get out of here, we can't escape. Only Elves can escape. Away, away out of Middle-earth, far away over the Sea.

If even that is wide enough to keep the Shadow out. And it hasn't failed, not yet. I took it, Mr. Frodo, begging your pardon. And I've kept it safe. It's round my neck now, and a terrible burden it is, too. Sam, you're a marvel!

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You can't have it! Frodo,' said Sam, rather startled. If it's too hard a job, I could share it with you, maybe? What have I done? After all you have done. It is the horrible power of the Ring.

I wish it had never, never, been found. But don't mind me, Sam. I must carry the burden to the end. It can't be altered. You can't come between me and this doom. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: Where there's a whip there's a will, my slugs.

Mount Doom[ edit ] 'Come, Mr. So up you get!

ride out and meet them where they are at

Sam will give you a ride. Just tell him where to go, and he'll go. He musstn't go that way. He musstn't hurt Preciouss. Give it to uss! If you touch me ever again, you shall be cast yourself into the Fire of Doom.

No time to lose. I'll deal with him. Let us live, yes, live just a little longer. And when Precious goes we'll die, yes, die into the dust. He himself, though only for a little while, had borne the Ring, and now dimly he guessed the agony of Gollum's shrivelled mind and body, enslaved to that Ring, unable to find peace or relief ever in life again I don't trust you, not as far as I could kick you; but be off.

Or I shall hurt you, yes, with nasty cruel steel. I will not do this deed. The Ring is mine! Out of the depths came his last wail Precious, and he was gone. Even Gollum may have something yet to do? But for him, Sam, I could not have destroyed the Ring.

The Quest would have been in vain, even at the bitter end. So let us forgive him! For the Quest is achieved, and now all is over. I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam. Many folk like to know beforehand what is to be set on the table; but those who have laboured to prepare the feast like to keep their secret; for wonder makes the words of praise louder.

This is your realm, and the heart of the greater realm that shall be. The Third Age of the world is ended, and the new age is begun; and it is your task to order its beginning and to preserve what may be preserved. For though much has been saved, much must now pass away. Who shall say how it comes here in the appointed hour? But this is an ancient hallow, and ere the kings failed or the Tree withered in the court, a fruit must have been set here.

For it is said that, though the fruit of the Tree comes seldom to ripeness, yet the life within may then lie sleeping through many long years, and none can foretell the time in which it will awake. Gandalf on the new found seedling of a new White Tree of Gondor. Many Partings[ edit ] I am the daughter of Elrond.

You have chosen the Evening, but my love is given to the Morning.


And my heart forebodes that soon it will pass away for ever. Hope he rekindled, and in hope ended; over death, over dread, over doom lifted out of loss, out of life, unto long glory.

For the world is changing: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, and I smell it in the air. I do not think we shall meet again. Then in the willow-meads of Tasarinan we may meet in the Spring.

Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same; for I shall not be the same. I am wounded with knife, sting, and tooth, and a long burden.