I've been playing. I could have shot you... two in the face. But I want you to live. I want you to see what you've helped create this time around. I want you to feel every death I cause... knowing that you helped to cause it by helping to recreate me.
My people... soon they will have that which fate has denied them -- a refuge from the staring eyes of a society obsessed with beauty and perfection. A chance to forget the world and maybe... forgive it.
I'm looking at a dead man, right? No! I'm looking at the leftovers! You thought you could fool everyone!? You thought Batman is something that could be replaced!? I thought you people understood the truth about masks. About identity. You realy believe everything that he was is a suit? A car? Body armor? A cowl? No. Batman's dead. So what does that make you?
This is me usingyou, you arrogant waddling buffoon...see, while you're here bleeding out...Gordon and his cops have just annexed your southern border..which means your territory, instead of doubling, has just been reduced by half.
In the matter of the people versus James Gordon, the charges are breach of contract, negligent homicide--multiple counts--and derelection of duty. A plea of not guilty having been entered by the defense, I have set a trial date for...now.
Who do you think I am-- the Riddler? This is no game I play! This is obsession! I do what I do because of what fate has made me-- not because I enjoy "matching wits" with the Batman! Nor do I particularly care to make his life hell-- as the Joker does! Fate has cursed me with duality-- and I decided long ago that it is my ugly, evil side which dominates! Similarly, Batman's fate-given destiny is to oppose evil and ugliness. I act and he reacts! Let him come! I never run!!
You know you are involved with a sick man who will see you die? He will stand over your body, with your blood on his hands and I promise you he will laugh... not because your life means nothing to him -- but because death, for him -- is the punch line.
The whole language and logic of computers is contained in two values. One and zero. One. Zero. One. Zero. Into infinity. Two values that can be made to mean anything. The sum of human knoledge in just those two. One and zero. Two sides of a coin. Two posibilities leading to endless possibilities.
Some people go to the beach to forget their problems. They can watch the waves for hours. I understand the fascination. There's a pattern -- then there is no pattern. It's the same with the coin. We want it all to mean something -- We want to find the pattern -- But in the final analysis, it's just waves. The only absolute stays hidden like some glittering Snake, waiting in mirrored silence for the opportunity to strike. My hand trembles. I stare into the glass. Something terrible stares back.