Quotes About Rebellion

Years later, she poked through the Bible—because okay let's be honest that was her Swedish Death Metal phase and suddenly a bloody guy on a cross held a certain romantic sway—and all she found was a few nice platitudes swaddled in a whole lot of hypocrisy, violence, and misogyny. No way was she going to church.

I once saw a Betsey Johnson runway show that featured thongs and ass cleavage, and I thought, This is the future .

what I really want to shout, and want in big letters on that grave, too, is FUCK YOU ALL. Don't all women feel the same? The only difference is how much we know we feel it, how in touch we are with our fury. We're all furies, except the ones who are too damned foolish

It was supposed to say Great Artist on my tombstone, but if I died right now it would say such a good teacher/daughter/friend instead; and what I really want to shout, and want in big letters on that grave, too, is FUCK YOU ALL.

It was supposed to say "Great Artist" on my tombstone, but if I died right now it would say "such a good teacher/?daughter/?friend" instead; and what I really want to shout, and want in big letters on that grave, too, is FUCK YOU ALL.

It was supposed to say Great Artist on my tombstone, but if I died right now it would say such a good teacher/daughter/friend instead; and what I really want to shout, and want in big letters on that grave, too, is F*** YOU ALL.

No, obviously what strength was all along was the ability to say "Fuck off" to the lot of it, to turn your back on all the suffering and contemplate, unmolested, your own desires above all.

We wouldn't be proper children if we didn't disregard our parents' most vital instruction.

You really are an incorrigible little slut girl, aren't you?

Give me B movies or give me death!

I haven't even had a life I could call my own, and you're ready to slot me into the grand design. Well, I don't think I want to go. I want to be my own design.

Beautiful, Grillo said. Would Swift approve? Fuck Swift. Somebody should have.

You opened their eyes to another world, darling. They'll never forgive you for that.

They had a leader. Some rebel. Shite! I don't remember his name. You know me and names. He was a dickhead and everybody says so. And old Bitch Tits kicked him down here. He started some rebellion." "Lucifer?" "That's the one. Lucifer. They prayed to Lucifer.

This, no doubt, was the call 33 had heard. Bored with his balanced diet of maize and maple peas, tired of the pecking order of the loft and the predictability of each day — the bird had wanted out; wanted up and away. A day of high life; of food that had to be chased a little, and tasted all the better for that; of the companionship of wild things. All this went through Cal's head, in a vague sort of way, while he watched the circling flocks.

You can't drive down the middle of the Mall! I damned well can and will so long as we live to tell about it!

Life is too short to give a fuck. Jump in the pool butt ass naked and do it up.

It was teenage partying on adult paycheques.

Can you send in guards? asked Prue. To, you know, get things under control? We tried that, said the attaché. Only gets them more riled up. They start getting oppressed when you do that.

It began in 1784, when people in the western territories of North Carolina (now eastern Tennessee) became disgusted with Tidewater control. Their solution was pure Borderlander: they created their own sovereign State of Franklin on nobody's permission but their own. They drafted a constitution that prohibited lawyers, clergy, and doctors from running for office, set up a government in the village of Greeneville, and passed laws making apple brandy, animal skins, and tobacco legal tender.

People wore different kinds of chains across their lifetimes, but it wasn't hard to interpret rebellion, even when the rebels wore costumes to deny blame.

Robbing the Hotel Theresa was like taking a piss on the Statue of Liberty. It was like slipping Jackie Robinson a Mickey the night before the World Series.

the full moon, the white beacon that so often agitated the slave with a mind to run.

The world had whispered its rules to him for his whole life and he refused to listen, hearing instead a higher order.