Quotes About Rebellion

What good is a writer if he can't destroy literature? And us ... what good are we if we don't help as much as we can in that destruction?

La gente que se da citas precisas es la misma que necesita papel rayado para escribirse o que aprieta desde abajo el tubo del dentífrico

Menos mal que ni vos ni yo somos cursis, porque de aquí salía uno muerto y el otro con las esposas puestas.

Kinder sollen nie Wein trinken. (Außer an Neujahr; dann sollen sie saufen.)

INSTRUCCIONES PARA CANTAR. Empiece por romper los espejos de su casa, deje caer los brazos, mire vagamente la pared, olvídese.

Valía más renunciar, porque la renuncia a la acción era la protesta misma y no su máscara.

Sólo la verdad es revolucionaria

yo no puedo acercar los dedos a un libro, ceñir apenas el cono de luz de una lámpara, destapar la caja de música, sin que un sentimiento de ultraje y desafío me pase por los ojos como un bando de

Sólo viviendo absurdamente se podría romper alguna vez este absurdo infinito», se repitió Oliveira.

Y su moraleja es así: 'No hay tercera dimensión, la tierra es plana, el hombre repta. ¡Aleluya!' Quizá sea el diablo quien dice estas cosas, y quizá tú las crees porque te las dice un rey.

Qué es la tragedia? Una inmensa, atronadora puteada contra Zeus.

Messieurs les douaniers, assez de conneries, ouvrez d'une bonne fois le colis, nom de Dieu, merde alors[3].

Estoy harto de palabras, perras sedientas!

Pasa que los cronopios no quieren tener hijos, porque lo primero que hace un cronopio recién nacido es insultar groseramente a su padre, en quien oscuramente ve la acumulación de desdichas que un día serán las suyas.

Creo que todos tenemos un poco de esa bella locura que nos mantiene andando cuando todo alrededor es tan insanamente cuerdo.

If you must break the law, do it to seize power: in all other cases observe it.

Stagolee was, undoubtedly and without question, the baddest nigger that ever lived. Stagolee was so bad that the flies wouldn't even fly around his head in the summertime, and snow wouldn't fall on his house in the winter. He was bad, jim.

The development of the peoples means a rebellion

Our runaways may well be the backbone courageous among our kids: the ones who will risk hunger and forced prostitution and jail and death, in order to say NO to this overwhelming suffocation and victimizing, adult defeat into which they have been trapped, by dint of being born.

We all wish not to be disturbed. Instead we want to live out our lives in feasting and idleness, hoping the ugliness of this rebelius world will never touch us. Ignoring death, pretending it will never happen, or that if it does, the great, kind, merciful God will overlook our years of defiance and whisk us off to some magical land where we can go right on in our wicked ways.

You were sixteen years old and you were messed up and alone like a motherfucker. You were also convinced - like totally utterly convinced - that the world was going to blow itself to pieces.

Yes, the wildness was in me, yes it kept my heart beating fast all the long day, yes it danced around me while I walked down the street, yes it let me look boys straight in the face when they stared at me, yes it turned my laugh from a cough into a long wild fever, but I was still scared. How could I not be? I was my mother's daughter. Her hold on me stronger than love.

Every time someone gives you a formula for what you should be and what you should do, you should know they're giving you a pair of handcuffs.

It was the curse that made me do it, you know. I don't believe in that sh*t, Oscar. That's our parents' sh*t. It's ours, too, he said.