Gimli, Son Of Glóin

Once More, Jubilations Shall Ring Through The Halls Of Durin's Folk

Death Cannot Come Twice To The Orc Lying Impaled Beneath Mine Blade

These Accursed Garments Refuse To Accommodate The Mighty Strength Of My Dwarven Form

Nary A Man Nor Beast Shall Outsmart The Refined Skills Of A Dwarf of Erebor

The Young Rascals Feast Upon The Spoils Of Victory!

My Body Is Ill-Suited For This Pursuit Across The Plains Of The Horselords

Victory Upon The Field Of Pelennor Is Mine; Surely No Foe Now Dares Approach The White Gates Of Men

A Night of Revels In The Hallowed Halls Of Dain's Mountain Realm

Foully Seized By The Hands Of A Pointy-Eared Elvish Princeling

The Ever-Changing Attitude Of Dwarves To Aerial Combat

Reflecting Upon The Swathes Of Orcs I Have Slain

The Size Of Your Beastly Foe Does Not Grant It Plurality!

A Pledge Of Brotherhood And Fellowship In Darkened Times