A sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Ride now, ride now, ride to Gondor!
“So much death! What can med do against such reckless hate?
Théoden: The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep one last time. Let this be the hour when we draw swords together. Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath, now for ruin, and the red dawn. Forth Èorlingas!
Théoden: They will break upon this fortress like water upon rock… Crops can be resewn, homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them.
Aragorn: They do not come to destroy Rohan’s crops or villages, they come to destroy its people—down to the last child.
Théoden: What would you have me do? 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.
Théoden: Take up my seat in the Golden Hall. Long may you defend Edoras if the battle goes ill.
Éowyn: What other duty would you have me do, my lord?
Théoden: Duty? No. I would have you smile again, not grieve for those whose time has come. You shall live to see these days renewed. No more despair.
Aragorn: Gondor calls for aid.
Théoden: And Rohan will answer.
For real everytime Gandalf the White saves Theoden from the darkness he had been in the Two Towers I come to tears everytime.
