Quotes About Defiance

In a dancehall in Kendal, I chased the bouncers out of the fucking dancehall, they were wearing white coats and they took these coats off, put them on the floor and jacked; Ginger Harris and me, we put the white coats on and took over for the night!

So what causes men to become violent? I'll tell you, boredom, silly rules, muggy screws and pathetic governors. What else can we do - swallow it, wipe our mouths out. You have to fight for your rights. Not sit back and take it.

This was a new buzz, better than anything I'd tried before. For the first time, I could fight back at others. I'd even fight with a parked car! I was totally kyboshed on these drugs, I didn't care how many boys were standing outside the pub, I'd run over and fight the lot of them. Even though I came off second best, in my mind, I still walked away a winner. I showed them I wasn't a little shit-bag that always got battered, not when I had the drugs in me.

I was so incensed that I was oblivious to all as I ran over broken glass, holding a five-foot weightlifting bar. The glass tore the soles of my feet as I chased the gang's car up the street. I remember breathing heavily as I cursed failing to catch my enemies.

SLAP! I saw a bright flash in front of my eyes, 'Don't you try and be a fucking smart arse in here, Holland, this is Partick cop shop you're in,' the irate copper retorted. 'So fuck,' I snapped.

I'll tell you, the screws' faces painted an even greater picture than my words can describe. We kept emptying our pots in the hall for two weeks before the screws started emptying our piss pots for us, but this didn't last too long after we started calling them bellhops.

So if you care to find me/ Look to the western sky/ As someone told me lately/ Everyone deserves the chance to fly!/ And if I'm flying solo/ At least I'm flying free/ Tell those who'd ground me/ Take a message back from me/ Tell them how I am defying gravity!/ I'm flying high defying gravity/ And soon I'll match them in renown./ And nobody in all of Oz/ No Wizard that there is or was/ Is ever gonna bring me down!/

to the icy roads and the pockets of resistance which

I decided as long as I'm going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly.

I'm going to get hammered away for asking these questions. Fine. Hammer away. But don't pretend that's the same as answering.

Behind the bar hung a photo of Roni Loveless, the boxer who, ordered to throw a fight, burst through an inner struggle to beat not only his opponent but everyone in the arena and its locality in an outward-blooming explosion of violence against suppressive mediocrity.

I liked that they had more balls than I ever did to just stand up and say 'Why' or 'No' or 'I don't care if there is a war on and a massive IED threat. I like watermelon so I'm going to steal a car I can't drive and run a Taliban checkpoint in order to go to the market.

A battle cry" Mr. Bennet said "is a warrior's calling card. Only it does not say 'Good afternoon. I have come for tea and crumpets.' It says 'Death has come for you! Flee or be killed where you stand!

I want to live my life in such a way that when I get out of bed in the morning, the devil says, "aw shit, he's up!

To tolerate Socrates would be to say to him that we care so little for our way of life that we are willing to let you challenge and impugn it every day.

Let him who doubts the victory wrest the banner from my hand.

Q: The Witness is reminded that she may be held in contempt. A: The feeling is mutual.

We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us. —Charles Bukowski

Death cannot be struggled against, brother. It ever arrives, defiant of every hiding place, of every frantic attempt to escape. Death is every mortal's shadow, his true shadow, and time is its servant, spinning that shadow slowly round, until what stretched before one now stretched before him.

This is Quick Ben's game, O Elder. The bones are in his sweaty hands and they have been for some time. Now, if at his table you'll find the Worm of Autumn, and the once Lord of Death, and Shadowthrone and Cotillion, not to mention the past players Anomander Rake and Dessembrae, and who knows who else, well – did you really believe a few thousand damned Nah'ruk could take him down? The thing about Adaephon Delat's game is this: he cheats.

But Hood was not yet done with her. He swung her up again, spun and once more hammered her onto the stone. 'I have had,' the Jaghut roared, and into the air she went again, and down once more, 'enough' - with a sob the crushed, broken body was yanked from the ground again - 'of- 'your- justice!

I have tolerated the deceitful and the malicious for long enough. My sword shall now answer them.

Conviction is a fist of stone at the heart of all things. Its form is shaped by sure hands, the detritus quickly swept from view. It is built to withstand, built to defy challenge, and when cornered it fights without honour. There is nothing more terrible than conviction.

Well, the world can go fuck itself.