Quotes About Resistance

It shouldn't be very difficult for anyone to resist the temptation to force himself into the pattern of the structured man. One needs only to remember that a groove may be safe--but that, as one wears away at it, the groove becomes first a rut and finally a grave.

the big idea of U.S. history: the subjugation of people of color by a succession of social systems, from the genocide of Indigenous people to slavery to mass incarceration.

Those convinced against their will are of the same opinion still.

A man convinced against his will Is of the same opinion still

How else to make a dent in an object as immovable as patriarchy itself...?

Vergissen jullie je daarin niet wij zullen leven. Wij zullen leven en wandelen en praten en eten en zingen en lachen en voelen en beminnen en onze kinderen dragen in rust in veiligheid in fatsoen in vrede beramen jullie de oorlogen maar jullie meesters van de mensheid beramen jullie de oorlogen en wijs de weg en dan zullen wij de geweren richten.

When armies begin to move and flags wave and slogans pop up watch out little guy because it's somebody else's chestnuts in the fire not yours.

This is a war and war is hell and what the hell and so to hell with it.

Pay no attention when they tap you on the shoulder and say come along we've got to fight for liberty or whatever their word is there's always a word.

When one man says, "No, I won't," Rome begins to fear.

the SOE was formed to carry out operations seen as being too politically explosive, illegal, or unconscionable to be embraced by the wider British establishment.

Give him a taboo and he feels the need to break it.

How many bodies were floating around, and how many more would die? Not the uptown swells with cars, second homes, and wallets full of credit cards, but those who had no car, no friend with a car, those who'd never left New Orleans and weren't about to flee just because the mayor said to go.

Diagnosed ill and off-kilter, poisoners, dreamers, madmen, lunatics, loners, sad ones, bad ones, star pegs in square holes, movers, shakers, mass debaters, tokers, pokers, instigators, conformity haters, subterfuge vessels and assassins of the vassals who lord over free and intelligent men with a dollar held high so that we jump until we die and know not of the pleasures of this life and the freedom of a soul unrestrained from the prison where the only fate is to hang.

Pain is a relatively objective, physical phenomenon; suffering is our psychological resistance to what happens. Events may create physical pain, but they do not in themselves create suffering. Resistance creates suffering. Stress happens when your mind resists what is... The only problem in your life is your mind's resistance to life as it unfolds.

God's salvation is a gift. We were nothing but corpses on the run from God's reign. But God, in his grace, chased us down, overcame our resistance, and began to heal our sin-infected will. His grace gives us hearts of compassion, love for neighbors and friends, and it empowers us with boldness to share the message of redemption. God's grace is an overcoming grace.

It no longer matters who consider themselves the masters of events. Events no longer obey their masters.

Quickly, Ian learned the danger of holding her. Once he allowed his arm around her, letting her go was nearly impossible.

Her grandmother used to say there were men the devil put on earth to test good women. Clara was tempted to ask the guy whether he'd just zip-lined in from hell. "Go away," she said instead. His smile was worth a thousand words, most of them dirty. His voice dipped. "How can I, when your eyes begged me to come over?

No matter what her father wanted, no way was Clara going to partner up with Light Walker. He'd suggested a tarantula for a snack, for heaven's sake. The were never, ever, ever going to work together.

She'd just committed to doing something she'd sworn never to do again. She was going home. She was going where the devil lived.

Her hand jerked, leaving an angry slash in the middle of the canvas. A headache drummed to life in the back of her skull. It's not going to happen today. She ignored the shiver that skipped down her spine. This is a normal day. I'm painting a normal composition. But it was too late. It was happening already. She squeezed her eyes shut against the images flooding her brain, but no resistance would help now. She couldn't escape.

Now Maeve, sweetheart, do not be difficult," he chided, tipping the glass, still holding her jaw so she couldn't turn away, and watching her like a hawk to make sure she drank. "I dosed it with plenty of sugar. You'll find it sweet and tangy, just like you.

Kindly remove your hand from mine, Lady Simms, or I will not be responsible for what I shall do to you." She only looked at him — and did not let go.