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Some things are ill to hear when the world's in shadow.

Old grey Willow-man! I'll freeze his marrow cold, if he don't behave himself. I'll sing his roots off. I'll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away.

Whoa! Whoa! steady there! Now, my little fellows, where be you a-going to, puffing like a bellows? What's the matter here then? Do you know who I am? I'm Tom Bombadil. Tell me what's your trouble! Tom's in a hurry now. Don't you crush my lilies!

Hey dol! merry dol! ring a dong dillo!
Ring a dong! hop along! fal lal the willow!
Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!

Violet Sorrengail: "Thank you for being my friend."
Liam Mairi: "It's been. My honor."

Killing you wouldn't be any trouble, Violence. It's leaving you alive that seems to cause the majority of my trouble.

Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable but you're really a violent little thing, aren't you?

There's nowhere in existence you could go that I wouldn't find you, Violence.

Hope is a fickle, dangerous thing. It steals your focus and aims it toward the possibilities instead of keeping it where it belongs - on the probabilities.

Lust and logic never seem to go hand in hand.

I love you. I'm in love with you. I have been since the night the snow fell in your hair and you kissed me for the first time. I'm grateful my life is tied to yours because it means I won't have to face a day without you in it. My heart only beats as long as yours does, and when you die, I'll meet Malek at your side.

Shadows, remember? They hear everything, see everything, conceal everything.

Xaden: "I'm going to keep you. You're mine, Violet."
Violet: "Only if you're mine."
Xaden: "I've been yours for longer than you could ever imagine."

"I'd have to be a masochist to sleep with you, and I can assure I'm not."
Fantasising about it doesn't count.

He's hot. He has that whole boy-next-door-who-can-still-kick-your-ass vibe going for him.

I can't lose you, Violet. I just... can't.

But I will not run. I wouldn't be standing here if I'd quit every time something seemed impossible to overcome.

I will not die today.

Defenseless women have never been my type.

You want to know why you're still alive? Because you're the scale I currently judge myself against every night. Every day I let you live, I get to convince myself that there's still a part of me that's a decent person. So if you want to quit, then please, spare me the temptation and f*cking quit. But if you want to do something, then do it.

Violence, remember it's only the body that's fragile. You are unbreakable.

Beautiful. F*cking. Asshole.

Even the most effective poisons come in pretty packages, and Xaden's exactly that – as beautiful as he is lethal.

The right way isn't the only way.

No one asked you to think, squad leader.

It would be a shame for someone else to kill you before I get the chance. But I wouldn't be surprised. Violets are such delicate... fragile things, you know.

Jack Barlowe. Remember the name. I'm going to be a wingleader one day.

Bless him, and to think I used to dream of chopping off his head.

Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways.

Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell ... and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord.

Fight! Fight for my master, the defender of the house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus!

Kreacher: "Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island's edge and he drank from the black lake ... and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface..."
Harry: "How did you get away?"
Kreacher: "Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back."
Harry: "I know – but how did you escape the Inferi?"
Kreacher: "Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back."

Kreacher is what he has been made by wizards, Harry. Yes, he is to be pitied. His existence has been as miserable as your friend Dobby's. He was forced to do Sirius's bidding, because Sirius was the last of the family to which he was enslaved, but he felt no true loyalty to him. And whatever Kreacher's faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher's lot easier.

"Who's Kreacher?"
"The house-elf who lives here," said Ron. "Nutter. Never met one like him."
"He is not a nutter," said Hermione.
"His life's ambition is to have his head cut off and stuck up on a plaque like his mother", said Ron. "Is that normal, Hermione?"

"Kreacher said nothing," said the elf, with a second bow to George, adding in a clear undertone, "and there's its twin, unnatural little beasts they are."

Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed! Your dad... your dad would have spared me! He would shown me mercy!

Thrawn or Tarkin would be perfect for this assignment. But both are gone. And few in my Empire rise to their level of skill

For if one is remembered by a friend, one is never truly gone.

There are things in the universe that are simply and purely evil. A warrior does not seek to understand them, or to compromise with them. He seeks only to obliterate them.

A warrior may forget that even the task of identifying the enemy can be difficult. And the cost of that failure can lead to catastrophe.

Time for Thrawn to face his future.
Time for Vader to face his past.

I am a warrior, Your Majesty. A warrior may retreat. He does not flee. He may lie in ambush. He does not hide. He may experience victory or defeat. He does not cease to serve.

All lives are important, and I resist the thought of standing by and watching two hundred possibly needless deaths.

Palpatine: "Congratulations, Grand Admiral. An excellent day for you. An excellent day for my Empire. Though I fear many will not see it that way."
Thrawn: "I will endeavor to set their hearts and minds at ease. But I must first calm my own heart and mind."

It is said that one should keep one's allies within view, and one's enemies within reach. A valid statement. One must be able to read an ally's strengths, so as to determine how to best use them. One must similarly be able to read his enemy's weaknesses, so as to determine how to best defeat him. But what of friends? There is no accepted answer, perhaps true friendship is so exceedingly rare. But I had formulated my own. A friend need not be kept within sight or within reach. A friend must be allowed the freedom to find and follow his own path. If one is fortunate, those paths will for a time join. But if paths separate, it is comforting to know that a friend still graces the universe with his skills, and his viewpoint, and his present. For if one is remembered by a friend, one is never truly gone.

Aristocra Zistalmu: "You've made quite a name for yourself over the past few years."
Thrawn: "Sometimes that name is appended to a curse."

I can see it all. Their tactics, their patterns, their weaknesses. I could tell you right here, right now, how to beat them.

If any break off and run, let them go. Their tales of what happened here today will hasten the demoralization of any other such groups.