Quotes About Resistance

If I were your enemy, I'd disguise myself and manipulate your perspectives so that you'd focus on the wrong culprit—your husband, your friend, your hurt, your finances, anything or anyone except me. Because when you zero in on the most convenient, obvious places to strike back against your problems, you get the impression you're fighting for something. Even though all you're really doing is just . . . fighting. For nothing.

Because this is war. The fight of your life. A very real enemy has been strategizing and scheming against you, assaulting you, coming after your emotions, your mind, your man, your child, your future. In fact, he's doing it right this second. Right where you're sitting. Right where you are.

The bad idea won't go to jail, and it keep fighting back.

Many asses have only two legs.

Everything that is hard to attain is easily assailed by the generality of men.

Yoga Practice gives us internal strength and resilience. Each breath taken during uncomfortable Asana forces us to observe our own internal resistance and hence the practice helps us to master our internal resilience.

In olden times, when a king sent his vogt to a village, the peasants received him with flowers in one hand, and arms in the other, and asked him--which law he intended to apply: the one he found in the village, or the one he brought with him?

Cliff never wondered what Americans would do if the Russians, or the Nazis, or the Japanese, or the Mexicans, or the Vikings, or Alexander the Great ever occupied America by force. He knew what Americans would do. They'd shit their pants and call the fucking cops. And when they realized the police not only couldn't help them but were working on behalf of the occupation, after a brief period of despair, they'd fall in line.

she covered her ears with her hands, for fear that old custom of obeying other people's plans for her should prevail yet again.

I stare at him coldly. "I do not care for needlework." I pause. "Unless it involves the base of the skull.

The revolution revolutionizes the counter revolution

My features have blunted with the passage of time, my reflection only faintly resembles how I see myself. Gravity demands payback for the years my body has resisted it.

This village is a real trap. Bit by bit it will eat up every single person who remain here. This place will never change.

It was possible, I had realised, to resist evil but in doing so you acted alone. You stood or fell as an individual. You risked everything in the attempt: it might even be the case, I said, that evil could only be overturned by the absolute sacrifice of self. The problem was that nothing could give greater pleasure to your enemies.

why I did things I didn't want to do and couldn't do what I wanted.

One could make almost anything happen, if one tried hard enough, but the trying - it seemed to me – was almost always a sign that one was crossing the currents, was forcing events in a direction that they did not naturally want to go, and though you might argue that nothing could ever be accomplished without going against nature to some extent, the artificiality of that vision and its consequences had become – to put it bluntly - anathema to me.

No, I don't want to be completed. I prefer to try outrunning whatever's after me. I prefer to stay out, like kids on a summer evening stay out, and won't come in when they're called. I don't want to go in.

Life is sending you in one direction and you're pulling away in another, like you're disagreeing with your own destiny, like who you are is in disagreement with who they say you are.

I have wanted to be free my whole life... the germ of a possibility that was soon to grow and rage like a cancer through my life... on the brink of rebellion whose impossible yearnings...

Stay away from me, Nick." She held out a hand to hold him off. He grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest. "I can't," he said softly.

For the first time since she'd pieced her heart back together, she felt a small tug at one of the strings. She dropped her hands to her sides and took a step back. The one word she'd waited to hear could destroy her carefully constructed life. "Don't." Don't make me forget. Don't make it better. Don't make me love you again. - Autumn Haven

He was the kind of guy who made Sadie a lit­tle un­com­fort­able. The kind who wore leather and drank beer and crushed emp­ties on their fore­heads. The kind who made her stand a lit­tle straighter. The kind she avoided like a hot fudge brownie be­cause both were bad news for her thighs.

I'd always tried to resist playing the supervirility thing. I liked showing the vulnerability of age.

We had no more courage than Harriet Tubman or Marcus Garvey had in their times. We just had a more vulnerable enemy.