The Silence of the Door
Batman may have made the front page but Bruce Wayne got pushed to page eight.
Tomorrow, you will be released. If you are bored of brawling with thieves and want to achieve something there is a rare blue flower that grows on the eastern slopes. Pick one of these flowers. If you can carry it to the top of the mountain, you may find what you were looking for in the first place.
No gun? I'm insulted.
Because some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just wanna watch the world burn.
Once you've done what you had to, they never let you do what you want to.
It's simple. We, uh, kill the Batman.
You see, I'm a guy of simple taste. I enjoy dynamite and gunpowder and gasoline.
Look around you. You'll see two councilmen, a union official, couple off-duty cops and a judge. I wouldn't have a second's hesitation of blowing your head off in front of them. Now, that's power you can't buy. That's the power of fear.
It doesn't matter who we are. What matters is our plan.
But I know the rage that drives you. That impossible anger strangIing the grief until the memory of your loved one is just poison in your veins. And one day, you catch yourself wishing the person you loved had never existed so you'd be spared your pain.
Take a look, his speed, his ferocity, his training. I see the power of belief. I see the League of Shadows resurgent.
But no ordinary child, a child born in hell, forged from suffering, hardened by pain. Not a man from privilege.
Every year, I took a holiday. I went to Florence, this cafe on the banks of the Arno. Every fine evening, I would sit there and order a Fernet Branca. I had this fantasy, that I would look across the tables and I would see you there with a wife maybe a couple of kids. You wouldn't say anything to me, nor me to you. But we would say it anyway.
Tomorrow, you will be released. If you are bored of brawling with thieves and want to achieve something there is a rare blue flower that grows on the eastern slopes. Pick one of these flowers. If you can carry it to the top of the mountain, you may find what you were looking for in the first place.
No gun? I'm insulted.
Because some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just wanna watch the world burn.
Once you've done what you had to, they never let you do what you want to.
It's simple. We, uh, kill the Batman.
You see, I'm a guy of simple taste. I enjoy dynamite and gunpowder and gasoline.
Look around you. You'll see two councilmen, a union official, couple off-duty cops and a judge. I wouldn't have a second's hesitation of blowing your head off in front of them. Now, that's power you can't buy. That's the power of fear.
It doesn't matter who we are. What matters is our plan.
But I know the rage that drives you. That impossible anger strangIing the grief until the memory of your loved one is just poison in your veins. And one day, you catch yourself wishing the person you loved had never existed so you'd be spared your pain.
Take a look, his speed, his ferocity, his training. I see the power of belief. I see the League of Shadows resurgent.
But no ordinary child, a child born in hell, forged from suffering, hardened by pain. Not a man from privilege.
Every year, I took a holiday. I went to Florence, this cafe on the banks of the Arno. Every fine evening, I would sit there and order a Fernet Branca. I had this fantasy, that I would look across the tables and I would see you there with a wife maybe a couple of kids. You wouldn't say anything to me, nor me to you. But we would say it anyway.
