"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..."

Cripples criminal_ "...hurts."

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.

"Something tells me to stop with the leg. I don't listen to it."

 I don't care if I am afraid—I CAN STILL ACT! 

"Rubber bullets. Honest."

 I let you have that one because you probably feel you deserve it. 

She goes for a second punch, but Bruce grabs her  fist and throws it aside.

Bruce: I said you get one.

I'm the Batman...

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.

Batman: To mock you.