Shakespeare or Batman?

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

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