Miscellaneous / Shakespeare or Batman?

Random Miscellaneous or DC Comics Quiz

Can you name the source, Shakespeare or Batman, who is quoted below?

Updated Feb 7, 2012

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Quote(S)hakespeare or (B)atman
I will grind your bones to dust. And with your blood and it I’ll make a paste.
You cannot stop me, not with wine or vows or the weight of age. You cannot stop me, but still you try.
We both stared into the abyss, but when it looked back at us, you blinked.
I can live no longer by thinking.
Welcome destruction, blood, and massacre. I see, as in a map, the end of all.
They have tied me to a stake—I cannot fly. But, bear-like, I must fight the course.
I will encounter darkness as a bride, and hug it in my arms.
I will break and twist things within you. You can't conceive of the pain I can cause.
As a man, I'm flesh and blood. I can be ignored, I can be destroyed.
You'll hunt me. You'll condemn me, set the dogs on me.
I'm a man of thirty—of twenty again. The rain on my chest is a baptism. I'm born again.
And as the sun, that had been too afraid to show its face in this city, started to turn the black into grey, I smiled.
Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.
We die every day...a thousand times an hour.
Did I finally reach the limits of reason? And find the Devil waiting?
Quote(S)hakespeare or (B)atman
I will not become an executioner.
Grief forgives what can never be forgiven.
I am a feather for each wind that blows.
Sometimes it's only madness that makes us what we are.
Smoldering, I burn you—burning you, I flare, hot and bright and fierce and beautiful.
Weep I cannot. But my heart bleeds.
The weight of this sad time we must obey.
Your feast is nearly over. From this moment on, none of you are safe.
Then all you've waited for is a puppet. A soulless little doll.
That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow.
He is come to open the purple testament of bleeding war.
Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand. Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
...how many hours bring about the day, how many days will finish up the year, how many years a mortal man may live.
As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods—they kill us for their sport.
...and darkness be the burier of the dead.

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