"Yeah. Thanks. Just what I need. Black lipstick."

"You're fucking with me." Tim blinks up at his uncle – and he's never seen his uncle in full armor before, not in person. It's kind of daunting. "Please tell me you're fucking with me, spawn."

"This is the fortieth time." Jason says, "Just to point that out. I'm not complaining, or anything."

"On the bright side," Dick says as he shimmies down the building, "You didn't raise a group of homicidal, raging, vengeful killers and sociopaths so much as you raised a group of emotionally-volatile, obsessive, spiteful vigilantes and paper pushers."

“If I had known offering him a sandwich because it was four in the morning and he had blood loss would result into having a permanent installation in my house I’d have off’ed him myself.”

"You know." Dick says, when he opens his eyes, "Santa normally eats the cookies."