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Plus, if I didn't study my principles of architectural function -- I only got to fight goners like Tweedledum and Tweedledee, while Batman got all the cool rogues.
Changing is always harder than staying the same. It takes courage to face yourself in the mirror and look beyond the reflection. To find the you that you should have been. The you who got derailed by cruel childhood events. Events that took your life's natural trajectory and twisted it. Changing it into something unimaginable... or even incredible... giving you the courage to embrace you birthright, your destiny, and finally realize... that you are BATMAN
I am not Bruce Wayne. But when lives were lost... and the entire city was at stake... I did what Batman had to do. I acted as the Dark Knight. To the best of my abilities -- I became him. And I succeeded. Not as Dick Grayson. And not as Bruce Wayne. But as Batman.
I used to think he was more real as Batman than as Bruce Wayne...but because he can't just be some cold super-hero around me, I think Bruce is becoming more real too. Look, I know what we're doing is important, but it's not everything. Mom and dad always taught me to enjoy myself, I think maybe I'm helping Bruce to enjoy himself, too.
Mr. Wayne said he wasn't going to try to be my father. He wouldn't adopt me. He'd just make me his ward. He said all he wanted was to make things as good as he could for me. [...] If I can't be with my parents, I'd like to be with Mr. Wayne.
Batman is NOT dead. And I don't mean this in some spiritual pep talk sort of way. That he now "...lives on through all of us." I'm not being sentimental. What I mean is, the world cannot know he's dead. Most don't even know he was human. Vampire. Demon. Ghost. We all know the myths. But that's all we have left of him. The fear he instilled. That is his legacy. And we need to honor that. We need to honor him. To acknowledge his passing flies in the face of everything he fought for. Everything he was. The criminals, the monsters, the ones who dedicate themselves to doing wrong need to think he can't die. They need to think he's still out there. Batman lives. Always.
I know it's hard to believe that I could change, Dent. It must be almost impossible for someone like you. You're stuck in amber -- obsessed with routine -- split down the middle. Clean or scarred! But it's not all light and darkness, Harvey. There's gray. You can't see that. I'm not like you, Harvey. I can change. But... I am still Batman.
He knows more, and he's afraid of spilling it to me. But he's even more afraid of heights. Between the gagging and vomiting he spits out something useful. A name which leaves me no doubt where to go next.
Look, Bruce. No one knows Gotham better than you. It's your city. It's Batman's city... But it's also nearly four hundred years old. Which means over the years, maybe it belonged to something else, too. Something big. Something dark.
Me and Batman, we had an arrangement... if he was in trouble, I got him out. If there was a death trap he couldn't handle on his own, I was there to get him free. He knew he could count on me. That's how we worked. He was my brother, my best friend. I had a job to do and I never let him down.
Changing is always harder than staying the same. It takes courage to face yourself in the mirror and look beyond the reflection. To find the you that you should have been. The you who got derailed by cruel childhood events. Events that took your life's natural trajectory and twisted it. Changing it into something unimaginable... or even incredible... giving you the courage to embrace you birthright, your destiny, and finally realize... that you are BATMAN.
It's that smile. That same damn smile Zucco had on his face the night he murdered my parents. Like seeing their broken bodies lying there like rag dolls was funny. That their deaths meant as much to him as stepping on two ants on the sidewalk.
You will go to the police and report that missing medallion from the Loomis case is here, in the debris. You will confess your crimes. You will lead the police to your accomplices. If you disobey me, I will find you. Do you know what will happen then?
When I was a boy, my parents kept a big map of the country tacked to the wall of our dressing room. The map had pins stuck in all the places our troupe was going to stop that season. Different towns and cities were marked with different color pins. Blue pins meant small towns... which meant small shows, less dangerous tricks. Red pins meant big cities. So, big shows and more dangerous tricks. All the stops were marked red or blue... except for one -- Gotham City, which was marked by a black pin. According to my father, the black pin meant no holds barred. Pull out all the stops. Bring down the house. It meant put on the biggest, riskiest show of the season. No catch wires. No safety nets. Everyone pushing themselves to the limit. I remember one time I asked my father why. What made Gotham so special? And my father, he looked down at me, and he said... "...some places just have a hunger about them, son. And you either feed them what they want... or you stay far, far away."
Blüdhaven. A short car ride down the coast from Gotham. But it seems a century away. As bad as Gotham is, Blüdhaven's worse in a lot of ways. If it's too coarse or too awful or too vile for Gotham, it winds up here.
I see them now. My first thought is -- all of this for Damian? The son Batman never knew he had. Grandson to Ra's al Ghul... and a kid no one can stand. And then I think... no... it's for Tim. For him, a thousand ninjas is just the start of what I would do. Of course... be nice if Batman were here to take a hundred or so off my hands...
You know, when I saw the news report that the circus was still alive... I didn't believe it. It didn't make any sense. Why would he let them live? Is it selfish to think it could have been for this? So in case I made it out alive... I could see them leave me?
This is the first time I've been out here since Damian saved the city. The first time since...Robin died. Two weeks ago, Joker turned my world upside down. He burned Amusement Mile. The people I trusted -- and who trusted me-- either died or left for good. But Damian was there. He was my brother. And now...now I'm supposed to move forward. Right. Forward.
You choose to go after the ones that stick their heads out of the sand. What about the ones burrowing down under? They're out there. And they're not living a monastic life. There's no way the Joker did this on his own. He had help from others... others just like him... they're planning. They're waiting. I want them before they fire the gun, or make the bomb... or kidnap the President. We have enough firemen. We need some hunters.
What the Hell is the matter with you? I mean, aside from the obvious! Ignoring all the many layers of denial, and the fifty feet of psychological body armor that you throw up to avoid feeling anything! Aside from that -- ! And the pathological need to control everything on Earth and beyond! Ignoring all that -- ! What exactly is your compulsion, your burning desire to deceive, lie and manipulate the only people who give a good god damn about you!?
Every one of those people was in the act of perpetrating a crime. I'm not going to get into some pissing match about where they fall in the hierarchy of wrongdoing. We hunt and catch bad guys, gang. That's the job. You don't like it, there's the door.
I can't tell you what Donna would want. Nobody can because she's dead, Roy! What do you want to do? Just strap on our guns and wait for the next thing!? Wait for the next madman, or alien, or psychopath to come along so I can shove people I love into harm's way!? How many should we kill before it seems like a bad idea!? It was Donna, Roy. Donna. Shut up. It's ended. It's over, Roy. The Titans are finished.