Quotes About Rebellion

Your life is your life dont let it be clubed into dank submission

The post office, or any world of work, is only one institutionalised system of control that is designed to beat people, to condition them into accepting that humiliation and failure is the norm. Those who do not rebel against this lose any ability to think for themselves. The workers are robbed of power whilst the bosses have only a small amount of it and can only use it arbitrarily, which is to say, pointlessly.

When women agree with me I always do the other thing

I am not like other people other people are like other people. they are all alike: joining grouping huddling they are both gleeful and content and i am burning in hell. my heart is a thousand years old i am not like other people.

a bad trip? this whole country, this whole world is on a bad trip, friend. but they'll arrest you for swallowing a tablet.

On blue jean day everybody in town was supposed to wear blue jeans or get thrown in the lake. I put on my only suit and necktie and slowly, like Billy the Kid, with all eyes on me, I walked slowly through the town, looking in windows, stopping for cigars. I broke that town in half like a wooden match.

I have sat in the dark here electric (haha) typer off lights out radio off drinking in the dark lighting cigarettes in the dark there was fire off the match we are all burning together burning brothers and sisters I like it I like it I like it.

What I wanted was a cave in Colorado with three-years' worth of foodstuffs and drink. I'd wipe my ass with sand. Anything, anything to stop drowning in this dull, trivial and cowardly existence.

We are here to drink beer. We are here to end war. We are here to laugh at the odds, and live life so well that Death will tremble to take us.

Brush your teeth with gasoline. Sleep all day and climb trees at night. Be a monk and drink buckshot and beer. Hold your head under water and play the violin. Do a belly dance before pink candles. Kill your dog. Run for mayor. Live in a barrel. Break your head with a hatchet. Plant tulips in the rain. But don't write any more poetry.

to die with your boots on while writing poetry is not as glorious as riding a horse down Broadway with a stick of dynamite in your teeth

when confronted with dutiful policemen or women in rancor I have nothing to say to them for if I truly began it would end in somebody's death: theirs or mine so I let them have their little victories which they need far more than I do.

Writing is when I fly, writing is when I start fires. Writing is when I take death out of my left pocket, throw him against the wall and catch him as he bounces back.

Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead

by the way . . . I realize I switch from present to past tense, and if you don't like it . . . ram a nipple up your scrotum. -printer: leave this in.)

you smirk, look at her (what's this?), you're cut somewhere, love it, the dripping of red onto your dirty torn undershirt, the whiskey roaring through your invincibility: you're young, you're big, and the world stinks from centuries of Humanity while you're on course and there's something left to drink—

a poem is a city burning

Cecelia sat and watched us drink. I could see that I repulsed her. I ate meat. I had no god. I liked to fuck. Nature didn't interest me. I never voted. I liked wars. Outer space bored me. Baseball bored me. History bored me. Zoos bored me.

I could make it. I could win drinking contests, I could gamble. Maybe I could pull a few holdups. I didn't ask much, just to be left alone.

They kept chirping and flipping and fingering their mental assholes.

I bought two tall six-packs of Schlitz and went back to my place and drank down the requiem.

How could men live with women? What did it mean? What I wanted was a cave in Colorado with three-years' worth of foodstuffs and drink. I'd wipe my ass with sand. Anything, anything to stop drowning in this dull, trivial and cowardly existence.

I went to the bathroom and masturbated—hard to kill a man like that with a Bomb?

I was glad I wasn't in love, that I wasn't happy with the world. I like being at odds with everything. People in love often become edgy, dangerous. They lose their sense of perspective.