Quotes About Rebellion

I have taken lots of orders, some of which I shouldn't have, but I had never yet taken orders from a piece of machinery. "Go climb a rope!" I said. "You'll have to drag me." This is not what to say to a robot. It did.

What do you expect us to do, gospazha? Throw rocks at Warden?" Wyoh smiled. "Yes, we could throw rocks.

I hope you will comply willingly; it will speed the day when I can bow out and life can get back to normal—a new normal, free of the Authority, free of guards, free of troops stationed on us, free of passports and searches and arbitrary arrests.

The individual act of obedience is the cornerstone not only of the strength of authoritarian society but also of its weakness.

Little Tony was sitting on a park bench munching on one candy bar after another. After the 6th candy bar a man on the bench across from him said Son you know eating all that candy isn't good for you. It will give you acne rot your teeth and make you fat. Little Tony replied My grandfather lived to be 107 years old. The man asked Did you grandfather eat 6 candy bars at a time Little Tony answered No he minded his own fucking business.

I would hate to be taken seriously. Serious people are always so grim and uptight that they make me want to dance naked on the lawn playing a flute.

The FDA's strong-arm tactics are used to intimidate and terrorize Americans into toeing their police state party line on healthcare and medicine. The FDA's purpose is not just to destroy the business and lives of their targets, but also to spread fear and terror throughout the land so that others who may be tempted to rebel against the agency will remain meek and submissive.*

I've got a tombstone disposition and a graveyard mind I'm a bad motherfucker and I don't mind dyin

He who would be a man must be a nonconformist.

But procedure is procedure," I said. "Un-huh." "Why I left the cops," I said. "You left the cops because they canned your ass for being an insubordinate fucking hot dog," Healy said. "Well, yeah," I said. "That too.

Don't you think we're oversexed?" "You're the shrink," I said. "You tell me." "Yes," she said. "I believe we are." "What should we do about it?" I said. "Encourage the pathology," Susan said, and smiled her rebelangel smile at me.

Rats They fought the dogs and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats, And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles. Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats By drowning their speaking With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats.

Punk nostalgia, on the other hand, is a grotesque oxymoron. What can it mean to pine for a time when you were young and nihilistic? To look back twenty years to when you believed there was no future?

Angry at his parents and all grown-ups who thought that school life was a lark, a good time, the best years of your life with a few test and quizzes thrown in to keep you on your toes. Bullshit. There was nothing good about it. Tests were daily battles in the larger war of school. School meant rules and orders and commands. To say nothing of homework.

They tell you to do your thing but they don't mean it. They don't want you to do your own thing, not unless it happens to be their thing, too. It's a laugh, Goober, a fake. Don't disturb the universe, Goober, no matter what the posters say.

They tell you to do your thing but they don't mean it. They don't want you to do your thing, not unless it happens to be their thing, too. It's a laugh, a fake. Don't disturb the universe, no matter what the posters say.

A girl came out of the school. She was thin, and wispy, and appeared to be fifteen or sixteen. She stopped outside the doors, lit a cigarette, and inhaled hard enough to inflate her body. I watched her smoke, and waited. Sooner or later, she would finish the cigarette or smoke herself to death.

Jonna Lester slapped hard at the couch, then threw the glass pipe to the floor. She stamped both feet. Mad. "Life really sucks." "That's true," I said. "But think of it this way." She squinted at me, and I glanced toward the bathroom. "Death sucks worse.

Pike's red Jeep was at the edge of the drive out by the gate. It was as far from the other vehicles as possible. Even Pike's transportation is anti-social.

Bobby's cheek was swollen and beginning to color but he still managed a grin. Probably because he had a Ruger .380 automatic in his left hand instead of a nightstick. He aimed it at me and said, "Here's where I put the fuck on you, asshole." That Bobby. What a way with words.

But not all men seek rest and peace; some are born with the spirit of the storm in their blood.

We're all going to hell anyway, why not enjoy the ride?

I may as well confess myself the author Of several books against the world in general.

At certain points in history it may be fashionable to be different and rebellious, but if a lot of people are playing that role, there is nothing different or rebellious about it.