[The flatness of Anders' response isn't really get him any points here, either. Bruce's lips purse and his fists curl, starting to tremble a little at the anger that seethes inside of him. If his mind was clearer he could try to understand and maybe even empathize with him - but right now all he hears are excuses. Excuses to take lives, attempts to justify himself for all the deaths that he had caused, the suffering he brought onto people. All for the sake of his justice.

But none of that--none of those is justice. There is no justice in senseless murder.]

So? Are you satisfied at what you've done? Can you go to bed at night even after knowing all the lives that you've taken for your own crusade? [Bruce doesn't even have any of these pretty reasons and the pain and death he had caused - even accidentally - haunts him every night, every waking moment. It eats at him, always, the pain and guilt of being who and what he is.] I don't understand how you can still stand here and think that anything you do now can make up for everything that you've already done.