Dick Grayson Quotes

Being gay is not an excuse for being a dick.

It was good to see her laugh. Even if it was at me.

You know why my wheelchair doesn't have handles, Grayson? I don't like to be pushed.

Y'know, a lot of the time it's like you Batguys want me to hold onto the past because you can't get over it. Understand— I have. I have a new life now. One I like — one that fulfills me. It's not the same as the one I had before, but it's good. Maybe even better.

All superheroes had pretty much the same problem. Batman was flash and sexy compared to Bruce Wayne and even Robin was a lot cooler than Dick Grayson. As for Superman, well. It was a fucking miracle that Clark Kent had never committed suicide.

You never know if you can fly unless you take the risk of falling.

[At his parents' graves] I've brought a young man -- a boy, actually -- to stay at the house. He's … lost his parents at roughly the same age that I … That I lost you. I don't know what will happen. I don't see myself as any sort of father figure. But … I think I can make a difference in his life.

We used to chase each other like this. Two kids flirting in a way only a handful of people on Earth could ever match. He with his acrobatics, and me with my ballet.

He is a symbol. He is a legend. He is immortal. He is incorruptible. He is Batman. I am not him. When I die, he will live. Batman has no secret identity. He has no other. He is no one. He has only hosts--mere mortal men who don this suit, this symbol, to continue his crusade. He isn't a hero. He is a cure, a cure to the virus of the human condition. He is exactly like his enemies, and yet strikingly different. He is just as swift, strong, and smart as them, just as brutal, but in the other direction. He will never kill, and he will never die. He has no name. He is Batman.

Huh. Redheads. What is it about redheads?

Bruce Wayne: I know. You keep thinking, If only I had done something differently. If only I could have...warned them. But there isn't anything you could have done. There isn't anything either of us could have done. Dick Grayson: Your mom and dad? Does the hurt ever go away? Bruce Wayne: I wish I could say yes. But it will get better in time. For you. That I promise.

You weren't the perfect father but that's okay because -- probably nobody's a perfect father. No family's perfect, either. I was lucky. I was privileged. Not because of the big house and the money, but because you gave me a lot of yourself. You taught me, you showed me, you encouraged me -- you never lied to me and you never demanded that I be anything I’m not. I didn’t imitate you because you insisted that I do so, but because I wanted to. Of all the men I knew, you were most worthy of imitation. Then I blamed you for letting me be who I was. Pretty dumb. You and Alfred gave me a home and you gave me what we don't mention. The L word. You were the best family I could have had. Thanks.

I've been so many things, Bruce. Flying Grayson. Robin. Nightwing. Batman. Agent 37. All of them had one thing in common. They were all Dick Grayson. Helping my friends. Helping anyone who needs me. Beating the bad guys. That's who I am. Who you helped make me into.

Dick. I didn't fall. I jumped. I jumped because I knew you'd catch me.

I've finally got you back, Dick. If you think for a second I'm angry at you for this, even a little, then you've been gone far too long.

And he was the first crush I ever had that wasn't a scientist-- it's a different thing altogether. It made me a little peeved at myself, to be honest. Half the girls in Gotham City would have been happy just touching his jacket. I didn't want it to happen. But I'm human, all right? And for a while, we were better than kids with a crush. We were actually friends.

One thing Batman taught me. Don't fight when a nice "Later, dork" will do. Sigh. But then again, Batman has fought every friend and ally at least once...his and Superman's fights are their versions of getting a beer and talking about sports.

I see them now. My first thought is -- all of this for Damian? The son Batman never knew he had. Grandson to Ra's Al Ghul... and a kid no one can stand. And then I think... no... it's for Tim. For him, a thousand ninjas us just the start of what I would do.

Gritting my teeth, I dug out my phone, swiped the screen, and held it to my ear. “Fuck off.” “Well, top of the fucking morning to you, Grouch,” Will said. “What’s your problem?” I swallowed again, raising my eyes to the prize once more. “Nothing my dick can’t solve if you leave me alone for ten minutes,” I told him, staring at her. “What do you want?” “To make you smile.

you may not have noticed, but i'm not what you'd call conventionally beautiful. in fact, you might say that i'm the opposite of that. say, you know - to vocalize, sometimes ad nauseam? do you think that there's any minute in a day when i'm not aware of how big i am? do you think there's a single minute that goes by when i'm not thinking about how other people see me? even though i have no control whatsoever over that? don't get me wrong - i love my body. but i'm not so much of an idiot to think that everybody else loves it. what really gets to me - what really bothers me - is that it's all people see. ever since i was a not-so-little kid. hey, tiny, want to play football? hey, tiny, how many burgers did you eat today? hey, tiny, do you ever lose your dick down there? hey, tiny, you're going to join the basketball team whether you like it or not. just don't try to look at us in the locker room! does that sound easy to you will?

From: James Grayson To: Luke Whitford Dec 12 I sucked him off again. From: Luke Whitford To: James Grayson Dec 12 What? Details, mate! Were you drunk again? From: James Grayson To: Luke Whitford Dec 12 We weren’t drunk. It was a normal evening. We were just hanging out, played some video games, had a pizza—you know, all the normal things. And then…then I was on my knees again. Honestly, I don’t know how it happened! He didn’t say a word. We looked at each other and I just dropped to my knees in front of him. And he let me. He let me, Luke! I know we should have talked first, should have said something, but I couldn’t. I was scared to freak him out. I could feel how tense he was. He just stared at me hard, his face totally impossible to read. So I went for it. Fuck, it was the hottest thing I’ve ever done. Now I understand why people say that sex is better with someone you love. I’d never understood those people who raved about sucking dick, but Jesus, I could spend days sucking Ryan’s. And he got really rough, you know. Like, he fucked my mouth, not just passively allowed me to blow him. From: Luke Whitford To: James Grayson Dec 12 Okaaay. Let’s pretend this isn’t awkward at all and I’m not turned on. What happened after that? You couldn’t have passed out again. You weren’t drunk this time.

He was cocky. It would have been easy not to like him. But he was also kind, and that excused much. Kind, and...a little bit sad, somehow. I didn't understand that about him back then. But we were just kids.

we were a generation of sidekicks with no heroes to guide us—where did they go? so many were killed, murdered, lost to the virus. others were disillusioned, brokenhearted, burned out of the fight. some sold out and went corporate. others fought on, but our numbers were legion, and theirs were too few to get to us all. so we fought by ourselves. sidekicking our way toward the shining light of the Hero Headquarters satellite in the stars. so many of us never made it. we were just kids. what did we know of justice? what happens to a teenager whose identity is grown around a battle for something greater? dear Dick Grayson, what would you have been if you never met Bruce Wayne? would it have been better or worse? i still can’t decide. thirty years of the struggle and i’m still that kid, scanning the skyline for someone to swoop down and teach me to fly. and yet another part of me knows i’m too old for that kid stuff now. i fly on my own just fine.

Prison? Hahaha. I thought you'd moved beyond this. I'm disappointed, honestly. You're still going by Batman's version of justice. The version where rich bastards hire high-powered lawyers and get a slap on the wrist, while mentally ill outcasts get the crap kicked out of them and thrown in a dark hole.

I heard you have a date with Oliver, and from the looks of it, you definitely do. You’re sweating like a whore in church!” Rob says as soon as he sees me. I punch him in the shoulder. “No I’m not! Oh God, am I?” I head toward the bathroom and look at myself, realizing that he was exaggerating. But, damn. I am nervous. “Why am I so nervous about this? And where is Meep?” “She’s in the shower, and you’re nervous because this is your first date together. I mean, real date. Shenanigans don’t count.” He raises a blonde eyebrow and laughs when I glare at him. “I need a drink,” I announce, heading to the kitchen. “No, you don’t. You need to sit and relax and be still. You’re going to give me a heart attack!” “Stop being a pest,” I mutter, plopping down on the couch. “Okay, but on your date, do not sit like that. Nothing is more gross than a careless sitter in a dress.” My eyes widen, and I cross my legs, sitting upright. “Damn you. Maybe I should have worn jeans.” Robert laughs, throwing his head back. He looks so much like Mia when he does that. “I was joking! Geez, you really are nervous.” “Who’s nervous?” Mia asks, walking over to us. “Jitterbug over here is acting like a virgin going to prom,” Rob says, earning a laugh from me, and a look from Mia. “Way to lay it all out there,” I say. “She looks fine,” Mia says walking over to me. “It’s just Bean.” “Exactly. It’s just Bean . . . do I look okay?” Mia gives me a once-over and nods. “You look beautiful, like you do every other day, when you wear make-up and brush your hair and dress up.” “Meaning not like every other day?” “Well, you have to save beauty for special occasions, Chicken.” “Bitch,” I say, laughing until the knock on the door swallows my smile. “Ohh here he comes,” Rob starts singing like he was singing Man Eater, and I want to crawl into a hole and die. Mia swings the door open and whistles loudly. “Looks like somebody wants to get laid tonight,” she announces. And this time, for real, I want to crawl into a hole and die. I can feel my face burning as I walk to the door and tell Mia and Robert to shut up. Oliver is wearing dark jeans, black shoes, a gray button-down, and a fedora on his head. It’s simple and hot, and it matches the gray dress I’m wearing, so I have to laugh. “It’s like they’re meant to be!” Rob states loudly. “They match! This is too fucking cute! Mia! Get the camera!” “I hate you.” I say, looking at him. “I hate you.” I say, turning to Mia’s face, red from laughing. “I don’t hate you . . . yet.” I say, turning to Oliver, who gives me a slow, cocky half grin that makes me melt a little. “Please have her home by midnight, and make sure she lays off the vodka,” As Mia starts rattling off her list, she stops to look at my blushing face and bursts out laughing. “Awww . . . I’m sorry, Elle, this is so cute though. You haven’t been this nervous since you lost your virginity to Hunter Grayson.” She stops laughing and turns to Oliver with a serious face. “All jokes aside, if you hurt her again, I will fucking murder you, and I’m not talking about a nice quiet murder, I’m talking dick cut off, internal organs everywhere kind of murder. So please, be mindful of that.

I’d never woken up with a woman before that wasn’t part of a job. I’d never wanted to. I’d also never had a woman in my bed since I was about eighteen. It made for an easier getaway when you were at theirs. Let them fall asleep, then slip out without any awkward discussion about repeat performances or number swapping. Some people called it cowardly, some called it a dick move, and I called it tactical.