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"I want you to remember...my hand at your throat. I want you to remember...the one man who beat you."
"There are seven working defenses from this position. Three of them disarm with minimal contact. Three kill. The other..."
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Cripples criminal_ "...hurts."
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It was tough work carrying two hundred and twenty pounds of sociopath to the top of the highest point in the city. The scream alone was worth it.
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"Something tells me to stop with the leg. I don't listen to it."
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I don't care if I am afraid—I CAN STILL ACT!
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"Rubber bullets. Honest."
I let you have that one because you probably feel you deserve it.
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She goes for a second punch, but Bruce grabs her fist and throws it aside.
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Bruce: I said you get one.
I'm the Batman...
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and you're dust.
You\criminal: Uhh, God you disgust me. You have no charm at all, just... obviousness. Dumb, dull. Disappointing. Obvious. Shame on you. Obvious... and everybody knows. You wear your shame like a badge, because you don't have the balls to actually pin one on. Yes, just look at you. Desperate to be feared, you want to be perceived as a monster, dressed in black. And yet... you leave that little window. A glimpse at the perfection underneath. Obvious—the chiseled good looks, not the jaw, the mouth of a monster... why do you let it be seen? Tell me why.
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