Quotes About Rebellion

At some point the talk got heated, and Paolo called Mother a strumpet, for which Daddy was said to have stomped a serious mudhole in Paolo's ass.

I couldn't have been more than six, but I was calling her an ignorant little bitch. Her momma stood on the porch step shaking her mop at me and saying there were snakes and lizards coming out of my mouth, to which I said i didn't give a shit.

It's distracting the boys, he says. You ponder what can be said that's enough of a fuck you. (The problem with fuck you's in this sort of place is that you habituate them; they lose their potency, and ergo must increase in outrageousness.) Finally you say, What makes you think I'm not wearing a bra, Mr. LeBump?

The door slammed shut behind her, and a moment later she heard what sounded like a tennis shoe being thrown against the wooden door. "I hate you!" Maggy screamed.

I came back [to school] in the fall, as a full-time boarder, with a certain set to my jaw, determined to go it alone. A summer passed in thoughtful isolation, rowing on a mountain lake, diving from a pier, had made me perfectly reckless. I was going to get myself recognized at whatever price. It was in this cold, empty gambler's mood, common to politicians and adolescents, that I surveyed the convent setup. If I could not win fame by goodness, I was ready to do it by badness.

And to tell the truth I don't want to let go of the wrists of idleness, I don't want to sell my life for money, I don't even want to come in out of the rain.

I try to be good but sometimes a person just has to break out and act like the wild and springy thing one used to be. It's impossible not to remember wild an want it back.

Truly I try to be good but sometimes a person just has to break out and act like the wild and springy thing one used to be. It's impossible not to remember wild and want it back. So if someday you can't find me you might look into that tree or—of course it's possible—under it.

I don't want to be demure or respectable. I was that way, asleep, for years. That way, you forget too many important things.

I have refused to live locked in the orderly house of reasons and proofs.

I try to be good but sometimes a person just has to break out and act like the wild and springy thing one used to be. It's impossible not to remember wild and want it back.

What I mean is, I wanted to live my life but I didn't want to do what I had to do

Jack threw his stuff into his knapsack. He put it on and climbed out the window.

The fallen angel becomes a malignant devil.

I clung to my ferocious habits, yet half despised them; I continued my war against civilization, and yet entertained a wish to belong to it.

Yo, como el archidemonio, llevaba un infierno en mis entrañas; y, no encontrando a nadie que me comprendiera, quería arrancar los árboles, sembrar el caos y la destrucción a mi alrededor, y sentarme después a disfrutar de los destrozos.

I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel

Wayward human nature will rebel against mental sloth. We must act, suffer, or enjoy; or the worst of all torments is ours - such restless agony as old poets figured as befalling a living soul imprisoned in the bark of a tree. We are not born to be cabbages.

But it is even so; the fallen angel becomes a malignant devil.

I, like the arch-fiend, bore a hell within me, and finding myself unsympathized with, wished to tear up the trees, spread havoc and destruction around me, and then to have sat down and enjoyed the ruin.

Remember that am they creature, I ought to be thy Adam, but am rather the fallen Angel.

Like the archangel who aspired to omnipotence, I am chained in an eternal hell.

Art is an explosion.

He spent months explaining Nietzsche's concept of the Dionysian to Evgenia; she loved the idea of embracing chaos—it seemed the perfect antidote to the stifling regimented boredom that surrounded them.