Too good not to post:
I did once consider resigning from my position at the Wayne household. “I need a disguise,” he said and I thought he’d finally gone mad with grief, especially those next words… But when I saw what he meant, when I watched how he surrendered himself to an ideal, how he used each ordeal, each heartache and failure, to become a better man, in the service of others, what could I do but stand in humble awe? And keep his wounds clean and his uniform tidy. And send him safely on his way. “I shall become a bat.”
“Alfred,” he said not long ago. “If anyone ever asks for an obituary, tell them Batman’s big secret was the classic whodunnit? Only it’s not about who killed Batman but who kept him alive all these years.” And he stopped there, leaving the rest to me.
The whereabouts of Batman remain unknown. And yet… I can see him now, in the grip of implacable forces, innumerable foes. Somewhere without hope. In a place where all seems lost. And I know this. The enemy will look away, for just a moment, underestimating him for that single fraction of a second too long. And no matter how dark the night, there will be no hiding place for evil.
– Batman R.I.P. by Grant Morrison, Tony S. Daniel, Sandu Florea, Lee Garbett, and Trevor Scott.
Philosophy, I think, is the search for that elusive truth, and truth, I think, is the other side of perfection, beauty. That is, I like to imagine, my Sisyphean task, and it is better immortalized in fiction, because in a book, the hero can rest for eternity on the top of the hill – until someone turns the page. In reality, time is everything and nothing at once, and so the sweetness of triumph is never pure, but always adulterated with the tragic knowledge of a bitter absurdity.
A man said to the universe:
“Sir, I exist!”
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
“A sense of obligation.”
– “A Man Said to the Universe” by Stephen Crane
Always good to bear in mind.