Quotes About Defiance

I won't take your crap, you ungrateful little shit! You think the world owes you something? The world owes you nothing! THE WORLD OWES YOU NOTHING! NOTHING! NOTHING! My heart slammed: fight or flight? Flight or fight? What kind of pathetically damaged animal decides on . . . neither? Couldn't breathe. Tried to say help but it came out a stupid squeak.

Yet, there is another altogether tantalizing form of surrender. The act of giving in with a vengeance.

You should see the other guy..." Teddy says, in this laconic tone that matches her black kimono. She takes a drag on a joint, barely glancing up from the crossword, which she always does in pen.

I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England too; and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realm.

I will make you shorter by the head.

I don't give a sharp-cheddar cheese wedge what your mother says!

Do I look like someone who cares about what God thinks?

Ha!----in their stead, their hunter sons! Ha, ha! they are on me----they hunt in a ring! Keep off! I brave you all at once, I throw off your eyes like snakes that sting! You have killed the black eagle at nest, I think: Did you ever stand still in your triumph, and shrink From the stroke of her wounded wing?

I don't want what you want," I said. "And I'm not going to help you. I don't even want to argue with you, because while I know that human beings are capable of assimilating, adopting, internalizing, integrating, and identifying with new sets of ideas—because we have, multiple times in the history of the species—I've discovered that I don't actually care what you think, because you are an awful person and you want awful things.

I liked her scowl and I liked her freedom to wear it.

Let us go hurtling around the galaxy thwarting evil, shall we?

You'd never break this one. You'd never even bend her. She'd die like Joan of Arc first, and spit blood on you through a smile.

The force of will to defy Richard Baines and wrest his own greatest sorcery away from him? I can't even best the man in a verbal jousting match? What think I that I can take control of a sorcery in which I am only the catalyst, the sacrifice?

It takes more than blood and iron to wound me.

Maybe rebellion had gotten its teeth into her soul.

She had controlled him. Down to the breath he drew. He'd thanked her for it, and it hadn't been enough for her. Fair enough. He had, after all, defied her in the end.

As blatant a declaration of intent as a wolf could make without a challenge snarled.

The girl was tall, almost sexless in her slenderness and anything but sensual, though she was naked except for streaks of indigo blood, dirt, and manacles.

My type of woman. Damn it to the Well.

Arms folded across her rib cage, chin drifted, Perceval could have been a statue labeled defiance.

If she'd meant to shame him, it seemed to roll off like water from slate.

He leans over Cathoair, his felted woolen cloak falling forward to enfold them both. Bending down, he breathes across the other's face, hand still heavy on the place where Cathoair's neck runs into his shoulder. Cathoair trembles, but raises his face to the wolf's, eyes coldly defiant and full of savage light. The wolf sees also the way Cathoair's lips half-part at the taste of Mingan's breath, and the fury that follows weakness.

He couldn't quite manage the defiant glance over his shoulder and the lift of his chin he would have liked, but his voice stayed steady and that was a victory in itself.

If the petty rebellion makes you feel better, Casey, by all means, indulge yourself.