Quotes About Resistance

On reflection, though, it struck her as dishonest, like serving people ice cream on their first night at the fat farm. Hey, have some more hot fudge! You're gonna love it here at Camp Lose-a-Lot!

The more advertising I see, the less I want to buy.

Indeed, the first step toward becoming a true outlaw is the refusal to be victimized.

What I'm saying is simply that every totalitarian society, no matter how strict, has had its underground. In fact, two undergrounds. There's the underground involved in political resistance and the underground involved in preserving beauty and fun--which is to say, preserving the human spirit.

In times such as ours, however, when there is too much order, too much management, too much programming and control, it becomes the duty of superior men and women to fling their favorite monkey wrenches into the machinery.

anything that says Yes to life is automatically saying No to war.

Is this blasphemy, my lord? I think not. Those who crafted me, be they gods or demons, crafted this mind that shapes my resistance to their schemes. Surely they were wise enough, at the wheel where I was thrown, to anticipate future resistance in the heart they were abuilding.

When they tell you to grow up, they mean stop growing. Reach a nice level plateau and settle there, predictable and unchanging, no longer a threat.

soul-searcher in scientist's clothing, but you're wasting your time. Science is an active response to the world. Mysticism accepts the world. Mystics scurry about trying to get in harmony with nature. Scientists turn nature to issues which we define. Science is resistance, rather than acceptance, and

the enemy is every proponent of standardization and the enemy is every victim who is so dull and lazy and weak as to allow himself to be manipulated and standardized.

Seduced her? Every time I turned round she was up a library ladder. In the end I gave in. That reminds me—I spotted something between her legs that made me think of you.

About the only time losing is more fun than winning is when you're fighting temptation.

If you're going to hold someone down you're going to have to hold on by the other end of the chain. You are confined by your own repression.

Where do you get the right to decide our lives? I'll tell you where. From that little hog's gut that hangs between your legs. Well, let me tell you something... you will need more than that. I don't know where you will get it or who will give it to you, but mark my words, you will need more than that.... You are a sad, pitiful, stupid, selfish, hateful man. I hope your little hog's gut stands you in good stead, and you take good care of it, because you don't have anything else.

schoolteacher didn't take advice from Negroes. The information they offered he called backtalk and developed a variety of corrections (which he recorded in his notebook) to reeducate them.

We don't need any more writers as solitary heroes. We need a heroic writer's movement: assertive, militant, pugnacious.

Everybody wants the life of a black man. White men want us dead or quiet—which is the same thing as dead. White women, same thing ... They won't even let you risk your own life, man, unless it's over them. You can't even die unless it's about them. What good is a man's life if he can't even choose what to die for?

He couldn't stay there surrounded by a passel of slaves whose silence made him imagine an avalanche seen from a great distance. No sound, just the knowledge of a roar he could not hear.

though she could remember desire, she had forgotten how it worked; the clutch and helplessness that resided in the hands; how blindness was altered so that what leapt to the eye were places to lie down, and all else—doorknobs, straps, hooks, the sadness that crouched in corners, and the passing of time—was interference.

Writing for me is thinking, and it's also a way to position myself in the world, particularly when I don't like what's going on. It's extremely important to me. ... I knew I always was compelled to do it, but I didn't know how essential it was to me.

He fought her the way a coward fights a man--with feet, the palms of his hands, and teeth.

Then they had grown. Edging into life from the back door. Becoming. Everybody in the world was in a position to give them orders. White women said, "Do this." White children said, "Give me that." White men said, "Come here.

I'll take hate any day. But don't give me love. I can't take no more love, Lord. I can't carry it.

running across the street to get out of the way of mounted police meant obstructing traffic. Finally Dr. Rio. A Cadillac. A hammer. A gentle, almost reluctant arrest. After an hour's wait, no charges pressed, no write-up or interview, they gave her back the shopping bag and let her go.