A special ability to predict my opponent's moves. That doesn't begin to describe it. Time... ran together. The future... blending into the moment. A blink of an eye... the knife thrust that follows... both one. It was like... like I could predict my opponent's moves. Okay, that does describe it. But it doesn't do it justice. All this knowledge. No substitute for knowing.
I'll never take another life. Not even hers. So I'll pretend to go all out... and then I'll die. I don't have to do this. I can still study Batman's method. I can be good enough for the costume. I can be... mediocre. For a lifetime. Or perfect. For a year.
Weak. Without focus you're nothing. And that's what you really always wanted me to have-- nothing. But you never asked me what I wanted. I Wanted to read. I Wanted to talk. I Wanted a Father. I Wanted a Family. I Wanted to belong somewhere!
Why does a creature of the night dress a little kid in bright colors and send him out against insane killers? He does it to distract his enemies. To make it easier for Batman to do his job. You and all the other Robins... you've been one more tool in his utility belt.