Quotes About Rebellion

Let us beware of common folk, of common sense, of sentiment, of inspiration, and of the obvious.

The Revolution had been made by voluptuaries.

Dandyism is the last spark of heroism amid decadence.

You must shock the bourgeois.

It is time to get drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk get drunk without stopping! On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish.

Now is the time to get drunk! To stop being the martyred slaves of time, to get absolutely drunk — on wine, poetry, or on virtue, as you please.

I have felt the wind on the wing of madness.

Joan Jett at the far left, staring straight into the camera, her eyes dragging me in. Just like the mystery chick at the Stop-N-Go.

Not that, this." She took her hands off the wheel and stretched out her arms, the car inching closer to oncoming traffic. "This town, these people, the same old shit every week. I'm done with it. All of it.

came out now with one eye on the kangaroo and one eye on the referee. I'm really steaming mad now, and I creamed that kangaroo. His tail hit me so hard my head ached for three days. I jumped off at the referee and decked him. The referee's people jumped in the ring after me, and my pals jumped in after them. The cops had a hell of a time in that ring sorting things out. I

The fear really hits you. That's what you feel first. And then it's the anger and frustration. Part of the problem is how little we understand about the ultimate betrayal of the body when it rebels against itself.

Some men hope for revolution but when you revolt and set up your new government you find your new government is still the same old Papa, he has only put on a cardboard mask.

Each man must have his I; it is more necessary to him than bread; and if he does not find scope for it within the existing institutions he will be likely to make trouble.

Hatred's destination is boredom, and boredom is perhaps a rebellion against time; it's the finished putting up a fight with the end.

Spartacus is dead, but he's still talking. (Spartacus est mort, Mais il parle encore)

Oliver Twist has asked for more!

Then tell Wind and Fire where to stop," returned madame; "but don't tell me.

I am not at all respectable, and I don't want to be. Odd perhaps, but so it is!

I'll not leave a handful of that dark hair upon your head, if you lay a finger on me!

Above all, one hideous figure grew as familiar as if it had been before the general gaze from the foundations of the world—the figure of the sharp female called La Guillotine.

It sheared off heads so many, that it, and the ground it most polluted, were a rotten red. It was taken to pieces, like a toy-puzzle for a young Devil, and was put together again when the occasion wanted it.

Lovely girls; bright women, brown-haired, black-haired, and grey; youths; stalwart men and old; gentle born and peasant born; all red wine for La Guillotine, all daily brought into light from the dark cellars of the loathsome prisons, and carried to her through the streets to slake her devouring thirst. Liberty, equality, fraternity, or death;—the last, much the easiest to bestow, O Guillotine!

The four hearse-horses, especially, reared and pranced, and showed their highest action, as if they knew a man was dead, and triumphed in it. "The break us, drive us, ride us; ill-treat, abuse, and maim us for their pleasure—But they die; Hurrah, they die!

He wouldn't hear of anybody's paying taxes, though he was very patriotic.