Quotes About Rebellion

We're here, there, not here, not there, swirling like specks of dust, claiming for ourselves the rights of the universe. Being important, being nothing, being caught in lives of our own making that we never wanted. Breaking out, trying again, wondering why the past comes with us, wondering how to talk about the past at all.

She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings.

Writers are not here to conform. We are here to challenge. We're not here to be comfortable—we're here, really, to shake things up. That's our job.

She was a committed romantic and an anarcha-feminist. This was hard for her because it meant she couldn't blow up beautiful buildings. She knew the Eiffel Tower was a hideous symbol of phallic oppression but when ordered by her commander to detonate the lift so that no-one should unthinkingly scale an erection, her mind filled with young romantics gazing over Paris and opening aerograms that said Je t'aime.

I was sixteen and my mother was about to throw me out of the house forever, for breaking a very big rule, even bigger than the forbidden books. The rule was not just No Sex, but definitely No Sex With Your Own Sex.

The rebellion of art is a daily rebellion against the state of living death routinely called real life.

I was in those days all about the 'fuck you'. Fuck you for not recognising how great I am. I'll do it myself.

In their world good manners and good sense prevail. They don't imagine that to choose sensibly is to set a time-bomb under yourself. They don't imagine you are ripe for the cutting, waiting for your chance at life. They don't think of the wreckage an exploding life will cause… Settle down, feet under the table. She's a nice girl, he's a nice boy. It's the clichés that cause the trouble.

our outside loo, known as the Betty, was a good loo; whitewashed and compact with a flashlight hanging behind the door. I smuggled books in there to read them in secret, claiming constipation.

?tia ea prea bine c? scriitorii sunt niÈ™te boemi obsedaÈ›i de sex care înc?lcau regulile È™i nu se duceau la munc?.

You are stubborn,' said Roger Nowell. 'I am not tame,' said Alice Nutter.

She grew in secret, away from their eyes. Outwardly she was obedient and loving, but inside she was feeding a hunger—

She knew full well that writers were sex-crazed bohemians who broke the rules and didn't go out to work.

Les peuples une fois accoutumés à des maîtres ne sont plus en état de s'en passer. S'ils tentent de secouer le joug, ils s'éloignent d'autant plus de la liberté, que, prenant pour elle une licence effrénée qui lui est opposée, leurs révolutions les livrent presque toujours à des séducteurs qui ne font qu'aggraver leurs chaînes.

Nikdy jsem nemyslil, že svoboda ?lovÄ›ka by záležela v tom, aby dÄ›lal, co chce, nýbrž spíÅ¡, aby nikdy nedÄ›lal, co nechce, a to je svoboda, jíž jsem se vždy dovolával, ?asto ji zachovával a pro kterou jsem byl nejvíce svým vrstevník?m k pohorÅ¡ení

Most Young Kings Get Their Heads Cut Off

Pay For Soup/Build A Fort/Set That On Fire

Tick wanted power. He wanted glory. He wanted war, with himself in command. He had raised his army by attacking his own people.

The thought made him suddenly furious. He sat up, grabbed a shoe heel out of the bucket at his feet, and hurled it with all his might. It arrived at the front door just as the door opened. Doon heard a hard thwack and a loud "Ouch!" at the same moment. Then he saw the long, lean, tired-looking face of his father in the doorway.

Mom] said she didn't want her youngest daughter dressed in the thrift-store clothes the rest of us wore. Mom told us we would have to go shoplifting. Isn't that a sin? I asked Mom. Not exactly, Mom said. God doesn't mind you bending the rules a little if you have good reason. It's sort of like justifiable homicide. This is justifiable pilfering.

woman grabbed my shirt and tried to pull me over the chain. "It's all right," I told her. "My dad does stuff like this all the time." "He should be arrested!" she shouted. "Okay, kids

Dad said something about freaks of nature, and Mom called Dad a Mr. Know-It-All Smarty-Pants who refused to believe that she was special. Dad said something about Jesus H. Christ on a goddamn crutch not taking that much time to gestate. Mom got upset at Dad's blasphemy, reached her foot over to the driver's side, and stomped on the brake.

My daddy is nothing like your daddy! I shouted. When my daddy passes out, he never pisses himself!

I never could bear the idea of anyone's expecting something from me. It always made me want to do just the opposite.