Quotes About Rebellion

Younger woman says, "I'm not going to be like my mother. You're maniacs. You're mad." "Yes," [older woman responds] "I know it. And so you won't be. The best of luck to you. And what are you going to be instead?

I'm not going to be like my mother. You're maniacs. You're mad. "Yes," said Kate. "I know it. And so you won't be. The best of luck to you. And what are you going to be instead?

But the majority will continue to insist—speaking metaphorically—that black is white, and after a period of exasperation, irritation, even anger, certainly incomprehension, the minority will fall into line. Not always, but nearly always. There are indeed glorious individualists who stubbornly insist on telling the truth as they see it, but most give in to the majority opinion, obey the atmosphere.

Our old friend maturity again! Well, I'm not going to be bullied by that one.

As I was finishing the copyediting of Bastard, I found myself thinking about all I had read when Kate Millett published Flying: her stated conviction that telling the truth was what feminist writers were supposed to do. That telling the truth—your side of it anyway, knowing that there were truths other than your own—was a moral act, a courageous act, an act of rebellion that would encourage other such acts.

The world is a new place, but it still needs to be remade. We still need revolutionaries.

We'll do it,' said Will Scott comfortably, shouting over the tumult. 'If it's no more than an hour, we'll do it.' 'Christ, I believe you're sorry, you flaming maniac,' said Lymond. 'Don't I keep telling you that this is bloody childishness, and don't you keep agreeing?

Why did you decide to join me?" "Why … ?" repeated Redhead, needing time to think. "Word of three letters," said Lymond. "Come along, for God's sake: no need to let me have it all my own way. What was it? Rape, incest, theft, treason, arson, wetting the bed at night …" "… Or burning my mother alive," said the other sarcastically. "Oh, be original at least.

Philippa said, to the scandalization of priest and secretary and chargé d'affaires, 'I think I'd like to get drunk.

He didn't always tell his father when it happened, because the old man's face turned mottled blue over his doublet, and unless Will got in first, he would send a runner round all the estates, and the threshing would stop while grousing, reluctant men straggled back for their pikes and swords and mail shirts, taking a long time about it, waiting for Buccleuch the Younger to come up, furious on his sweating horse, and tell them curtly to get back to the fields.

No. I won't. I won't bend my knee, or kiss your charming shoes either. I may possibly fall flat on my face, but that will be quite inadvertent.

Jerott, his face frowning with sleeplessness, was looking at Richard, this powerful man with the brilliant grey eyes who had not contemplated bereavement with stoicism but was rebelling, as Sybilla was not rebelling, against what he had found.

You will stand there and let me refer to Madame la putaine your mother? You will watch while I call my sergeant in to listen while I brand you bastard?' 'No,' said Lymond.

Modern war is fought by a number of strong, sweaty horsemen with constipation, who have their eyes on power, on wealth and on glory, and who obey the rules just when it pleases them.

She wouldn't send anyone, nor would she take anyone with her. She organizes witches' Sabbaths every full moon,' explained Philippa tartly.

If we surrender we'll get our throats cut anyway. Let's go out in a blaze of glory.

To Lymond, she said, 'I didn't ask. I don't care what you are going to say. I don't care. I don't care. These things have got to be said. Everyone is frightened to speak to you.' 'But I allow no one—no one at all, to speak to me like this,' Lymond said.

All your life you have resented control and brooked no hint of instruction or guidance. This time, your will is not paramount.

Alec Guthrie's voice, serene from the shadows, said, You are not going to Russia. You are not going. All your life you have resented control and brooked no hint of instruction or guidance. This time, your will is not paramount.

Alec Guthrie's voice, serene from the shadows, said, 'You are not going to Russia. You are not going. All your life you have resented control and brooked no hint of instruction or guidance. This time, your will is not paramount.

Afraid?" said the yellow-haired man and laughed. "Forgive me, I should have warned you: I have a tendency to be bloody-minded. Bruslez, noyez, pendez, ompallez, descouppez, fricassez, crucifiez, bouillez, carbonnadez ces méchantes femmes.

You haven't been planting seeds of insurrection, have you, Duchess? Well, it's a change from planting geraniums, she retorted.

It wasn't that she had so much character, thought Mrs. Pollifax, but rather that always in her life she had found it difficult to submit. The list of her small rebellions was endless. Surely there was room for one more?

If I don't drive around the park, I'm pretty sure to make my mark. If I'm in bed each night by ten, I may get back my looks again, If I abstain from fun and such, I'll probably amount to much, But I shall stay the way I am, Because I do not give a damn…