Best 367 quotes in «rebellion quotes» category

Lyall felt he could not say which of two things was harder to put up with, the Abbot's conversational style, with its bland coherence and assumption of severely limited cogitative powers in the hearer, or his recurrent look of pleased surprise as each fresh piece of evidence of his wisdom or moral worth turned up, but between them they were likely to implant in certain minds a hardy seed of revolt.

Manabii wa uongo wana dhambi kuu tatu: tamaa ya ngono, uasi dhidi ya mamlaka ya Kristo, na dharau kwa Shetani.

Making-out is one thing that won’t change even if civilization fizzles and humanity is reduced to two people. So each time Jack and I kiss, it’s as if we’re flipping off the jerks who destroyed our planet, as if we’re screaming at the top of our lungs… We know your secret. And we won’t be made invisible.

Man cannot be reduced to slavery if he is not distorted first. The politician and the priest have been in a deep conspiracy down the ages. They have been reducing humanity to a crowd of slaves. They are destroying every possibility of rebellion in man—and love is rebellion, because love listens only to the heart and does not care a bit about anything else.

Mangarap ka at abutin mo ito. Wag mo sisihin ang sira mong pamilya, palpak mong syota, pilay mong tuta, o mga lumilipad na ipis...Kung may pagkukulang sayo ang mga magulang mo, pwede kang manisi at magrebelde... tumigil sa pag-aaral, mag drugs ka, magpakulay ng buhok sa kilikili... Sa bandang huli, ikaw din ang biktima... Rebeldeng walang napatunayan at bait sa sarili.

Man rejection of the Truth is the root of his rebellion.

Maybe he, like me, is engaged in the kind of unspoken rebellion you don't want to perform too brightly since you're never certain anyone in your family will notice your darkened eyes, skeleton shoes, tousled hair, patchy attendance record. You may be sacrificing body and soul on a ghostly battlefield, fighting across a divide seen by no one but you.

May be the power lies in the hands of the one who holds the gun... so he just presses the trigger whenever the slightest streak of anger passes his mind... and after a few haunting days he roams freely in the country without fear .. and what about the one who faces the wrath and bears the bullets? He leaves a movement behind... but haven't such movements always been ephemeral? Is death the price you need to pay to open the eyes of those who care but just for a couple of days?

Maybe the most rebellious act would be to live a quiet life.

Maybe the most rebellious act of all would be to live a quiet life.

Maybe the most rebellious act of all is to live a quiet life.

Mes bleus étaient les témoins d'une insoumission encore en cours.

Most young people have rebellious, anti-authoritarian impulses. They don't like being told what, when, or how to do something. It's ironic, then, that many of these same people embrace a system in which there would be far more regulations, many more bureaucrats micromanaging their lives, and far more rules and restrictions on how things can be done.

Most Romans believed that their system of government was the finest political invention of the human mind. Change was inconceivable. Indeed, the constitution's various parts were so mutually interdependent that reform within the rules was next to impossible. As a result, radicals found that they had little choice other than to set themselves beyond and against the law. This inflexibility had disastrous consequences as it became increasingly clear that the Roman state was incapable of responding adequately to the challenges it faced. Political debate became polarized into bitter conflicts, with radical outsiders trying to press change on conservative insiders who, in the teeth of all the evidence, believed that all was for the best under the best of all possible constitutions (16).

My dream is to create something so beautiful that it encourages people to present the best version of themselves to me everywhere I go.

My act of rebellion would be absorbed like rain on an ocean and leave no trace. I would not cause a ripple.

My design, the ancient man said, sucking his lips, is not to win battles with words but to convince the head and the heart of man that we must accept the world as it is, and peacefully; the world we live in is well ordered and offers rewarding riches to those who accept their place in it without protest.

New York Times founder Henry Raymond started his newspaper, "with the goal of reforming government, not belittling it.

Nell did not imagine that Constable Moore wanted to get into a detailed discussion of recent events, so she changed the subject. "I think I have finally worked out what you were trying to tell me, years ago, about being intelligent," she said. The Constable brightened all at once. "Pleased to hear it." The Vickys have an elaborate code of morals and conduct. It grew out of the moral squalor of an earlier generation, just as the original Victorians were preceded by the Georgians and the Regency. The old guard believe in that code because they came to it the hard way. They raise their children to believe in that code– but their children believe it for entirely different reasons." They believe it," the Constable said, "because they have been indoctrinated to believe it." Yes. Some of them never challenge it– they grow up to be smallminded people, who can tell you what they believe but not why they believe it. Others become disillusioned by the hypocrisy of the society and rebel– as did Elizabeth Finkle-McGraw." Which path do you intend to take, Nell?" said the Constable, sounding very interested. "Conformity or rebellion?" Neither one. Both ways are simple-minded– they are only for people who cannot cope with contradiction and ambiguity.

Never before in history has such a sweeping fervor for freedom expressed itself in great mass movements which are driving down the bastions of empire. This wind of change blowing through Africa, as I have said before, is no ordinary wind. It is a raging hurricane against which the old order cannot stand [...] The great millions of Africa, and of Asia, have grown impatient of being hewers of wood and drawers of water, and are rebelling against the false belief that providence created some to be menials of others. Hence the twentieth century has become the century of colonial emancipation, the century of continuing revolution which must finally witness the total liberation of Africa from colonial rule and imperialist exploitation.

My son, I don’t believe in God, prayer, afterlife or miracles. You may disagree with me on all of these. I’d prefer that you agree and reserve rebellion and independence over important issues instead.

Now I know. If God himself stood before me and said, "Give me that child, that I might slaughter him," I would tell him, "BITE ME!

No more hiding in the darkness. A fire like this would be seen for hundreds of miles.

...no one knows better than I what a good woman your mother was. But she had a weakness for misery and it led to her death. I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.

Notions of rebellion had been expelled out of her by the stifling sun

Nuestro padre se asomó al antepecho. - ¡Cuando te canses de estar ahí ya cambiarás de idea! - le gritó. - Nunca cambiaré de idea - dijo mi hermano desde la rama. - ¡Ya verás, en cuanto bajes! - ¡No bajaré nunca más! Y mantuvo su palabra.

Obedience is the virtue that determines whether a person is either a servant or a rebel. Life of integrity is built on obedience of God's statutes and nothing else.

Oh, the child you threatened once, the young shoot you stepped on, the Tamil you teased, is standing with a gun in front of you. His presence is taking you by surprise. How can you understand that it is the occupier who creates a poorali? You once dealt the blow. Now you are imprisoned. When a fox tries to eat the goat, the goat must turn into a tiger and leap. That is the edict of the times.

On a social level, secularism is safe. As literally the world's most fundamental conformist, the secularist wants to call himself a revolutionary all in the same. In most parts of the present world, rebellion against Christianity is not really much of a rebellion if one is to consider 'rebellion' something of a courageous sort or a bold act. Long ago Christ was crucified, and in some form or another, to this day, the scorn continues for 'little Christs'. The world hates Christians, and according to Christ, it is supposed to hate Christians. A true Christianity is a true rebellion; and for one to be 'freed from Christianity' is for one to religiously conform to the pressures of the rest of the world, for one to be freed from freedom.

On Adventure - Adventure stories usually start by someone breaking the rules.

One must avoid snobbery and misanthropy. But one must also be unafraid to criticise those who reach for the lowest common denominator, and who sometimes succeed in finding it. This criticism would be effortless if there were no "people" waiting for just such an appeal. Any fool can lampoon a king or a bishop or a billionaire. A trifle more grit is required to face down a mob, or even a studio audience that has decided it knows what it wants and is entitled to get it. And the fact that kings and bishops and billionaires often have more say than most in forming appetites and emotions of the crowd is not irrelevant, either.

One minute, I'm a tragically average, fair and freckled eighth-grader with algebra homework. The next, I'm one who has swallowed liquor. I'm a rebel. I'm a line-crosser.

Originality is the best form of rebellion.

Our longing for community and purpose is so powerful that it can drive us to join groups, relationships, or systems of belief that, to our diminished or divided self, give the false impression of belonging. But places of false belonging grant us conditional membership, requiring us to cut parts of ourselves off in order to fit in. While false belonging can be useful and instructive for a time, the soul becomes restless when it reaches a glass ceiling, a restriction that prevents us from advancing. We may shrink back from this limitation for a time, but as we grow into our truth, the invisible boundary closes in on us and our devotion to the groupmind weakens. Your rebellion is a sign of health. It is the way of nature to shatter and reconstitute. Anything or anyone who denies your impulse to grow must either be revolutionised or relinquished.

People did what conservatives always did when the going got tough: they started a new group.

Our need for social and personal change and power is often co-opted and trivialized into an adolescent and self-centered kind of rebellion.

Overbearing mothers usually give way to one of two things in their children: rebellion or passivity.

Pagans earn their reputations for relaxed sexual mores, often in rebellion from the repression of their religions during adolescence. At a Pagan festival, one need only lower one's guard to be offered sex under the cloaking of the sacred.

Pensar es el mayor acto de rebelión.

People wore different kinds of chains across their lifetimes, but it wasn't hard to interpret rebellion, even when the rebels wore costumes to deny blame.

Rebellion leads to ruin.

Progress is dependent upon a productive and dynamic tension between institutionalism and insurrectionism. Insurrectionists keep our institutions honest. Insurrection us are stewards of our collective public life.

Qu'on le sache bien, une bonne fois pour toutes: je ne veux pas me civiliser.

Rebel, but always with humor.

Rebellion isn’t something one sought or fought but merely born with

Rebellion is breaking the rules; freedom is denying there are any.

Rebellion without reprisal is one of democracy's perks, right?

Ready yourselves!' Mullone heard himself say, which was strange, he thought, for he knew his men were prepared. A great cry came from beyond the walls that were punctuated by musket blasts and Mullone readied himself for the guns to leap into action. Mullone felt a tremor. The ground shook and then the first rebels poured through the gates like an oncoming tide. Mullone saw the leading man; both hands gripping a green banner, face contorted with zeal. The flag had a white cross in the centre of the green field and the initials JF below it. John Fitzstephen. Then, there were more men behind him, tens, then scores. And then time seemed to slow. The guns erupted barely twenty feet from them. Later on, Mullone would remember the great streaks of flame leap from the muzzles to lick the air and all of the charging rebels were shredded and torn apart in one terrible instant. Balls ricocheted on stone and great chunks were gouged out by the bullets. Blood sprayed on the walls as far back as the arched gateway, limbs were shorn off, and Mullone watched in horror as a bloodied head tumbled down the sloped street towards the barricade. 'Jesus sweet suffering Christ!' Cahill gawped at the carnage as the echo of the big guns resonated like a giant's beating heart. Trooper O'Shea bent to one side and vomited at the sight of the twitching, bleeding and unrecognisable lumps that had once been men. A man staggered with both arms missing. Another crawled back to the gate with a shattered leg spurting blood. The stench of burnt flesh and the iron tang of blood hung ripe and nauseating in the oppressive air. One of the low wooden cabins by the wall was on fire. A blast of musketry outside the walls rattled against the stonework and a redcoat toppled backwards onto the cabin's roof as the flames fanned over the wood. 'Here they come again! Ready your firelocks! Do not waste a shot!' Johnson shouted in a steady voice as the gateway became thick with more rebels. He took a deep breath. 'God forgive us,' Corporal Brennan said. 'Liberty or death!' A rebel, armed with a blood-stained pitchfork, shouted over-and-over.

Rebellion is like a second birth.

Rebellion is when you look society in the face and say I understand who you want me to be, but I’m going to show you who I actually am.