Quotes About Rebellion

Yes, Satan rebelled. Yes, Adam and Eve freely chose sin, and with it death and suffering. And yes, the all-powerful, happy God could have intervened to prevent those choices. If that intervention would have brought him more glory and us more good, no doubt he would have done it. But God, in his wisdom, determined that not even rebellion and sin could thwart his plan to further his happiness and that of his people.

For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened.

So few want to be rebels anymore. And out of those few, most, like myself, scare easily.

Those who don't build must burn. It's as old as history and juvenile delinquents.

Ask for no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping it's life away. To hell with that, he said, shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass.

Grandfather's been dead all these years, but if you lifted my skull, by God, in the convolutions of my brain you'd find the big ridges of his thumbprint. He touched me. As I said earlier, he was a sculptor. 'I hate a Roman named Status Quo!' he said to me. 'Stuff your eyes with wonder,' he said, 'live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories.

Monday burn Millay, Wednesday Whitman, Friday Faulkner, burn 'em to ashes, then burn the ashes. That's our official slogan.

Forget them. Burn all, burn everything. Fire is bright and fire is clean.

So now do you see why books are hated and feared? They show the pores in the face of life. The comfortable people want only wax moon faces, poreless, hairless, expressionless.

To hell with you. To hell with you and to hell with the Internet.

So few want to be rebels anymore.

If there were no war, if there was peace in the world, I'd say fine, have fun! But, Montag, you mustn't go back to being just a fireman. All isn't well with the world.

Sometimes I am stunned at my capacity as a nine-year-old, to understand my entrapment and escape it... Where did I find the courage to rebel, to change my life, live alone? I don't want to over-estimate all this, but damn it, I love that nine-year-old, whoever in hell he was.

I'll tell you, said Beatty, smiling at his cards. That made you for a little while a drunkard. Read a few lines and off you go over the cliff. Bang, you're ready to blow up the world, chop off heads, knock down women and children, destroy authority. I know. I've been through it all.

It is computed that eleven thousand persons have at several times suffered death rather than submit to break eggs at the smaller end.

So now do you see why books are hated and feared? They show the pores in the face of life. The comfortable people want only wax moon faces, poreless, hairless, expressionless. We are living in a time when flowers are trying to live on flowers, instead of growing on good rain and black loam.

So now do you see why books are hated and feared? The show the pores in the face of life. The comfortable people want only wax moon faces, pore less, hairless, expressionless. We are living in a time when flowers are to live on flowers, instead of growing on good rain and black loam. Even fireworks, for all their prettiness, come from the chemistry of the earth.

I'm seventeen and I'm crazy.

That's all science fiction was ever about. Hating the way things are, wanting to make things different.

Mildred driving a hundred miles an hour across town, he shouting at her and she shouting back and both trying to hear what was said, but hearing only the scream of the car. At least keep it down to the minimum! he yelled. What? she cried. Keep it down to fifty-five, the minimum he shouted. The what? she shrieked. Speed! he shouted. And she pushed it up to one hundred and five miles and tore the breath from his mouth.

Grow up and you turn into burglars and get shot, or worse, they make you wear a coat and tie and stash you in the First National Bank behind brass bars! We gotta stand still! Stay the age we are. Grow up? Hah! All you do then is marry someone who screams at you!

They run amuck; I let them. Pride of lions in the yard. Stare and they burn a hole in your retina. A common flower, a weed that no one sees, yes. But for us, a noble thing, the dandelion.

But remember that the Captain belongs to the most dangerous enemy to truth and freedom, the solid unmoving cattle of the majority. Oh, God, the terrible tyranny of the majority. We all have our harps to play. And it's up to you now to know with which ear you'll listen.

Those who don't build must burn. It's as old as history and juvenile delinquents.