MERRY: What do you suppose that means?
GANDALF:Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open. Annon Edhellen edro hi ammen! (Gate of the Elves open now for me!) Lasto beth... (Listen to...)
PIPPIN: Nothing's happening.
GANDALF:I once knew every spell in the all tongues of Elves, Men and Orcs.
PIPPIN: What are you going to do then?
GANDALF:Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words.
GANDALF:Oh, it's useless.
FRODO:It's a riddle. Speak 'friend', and enter. What's the Elvish word for friend?
GIMLI: Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone! This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine. A MINE!
BOROMIR: This is no mine. It's a tomb.
GANDALF:We now have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world. Quietly now. It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed.
GANDALF:The wealth of Moria was not in gold or jewels, but mithril. Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings that Thorin gave him.
GIMLI: Oh! That was a kingly gift!
GANDALF:Yes. I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire.