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Rebellion Quotes

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Rebellion Quotes

“It is therefore easy to see why Authority frowns on Friendship. Every real Friendship is a sort of secession, even a rebellion. It may be a rebellion of serious thinkers against accepted clap-trap or of faddists against accepted good sense; of real artists against popular ugliness or of charlatans against civilised taste; of good men against the badness of society or of bad men against its goodness. Whichever it is, it will be unwelcome to Top People.”

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Author:Clive Staples Lewis
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“So che, rifiutando a mia volta di accettare un compromesso con i fondamentalisti e con i signori della guerra, o di annacquare le mie denunce nei loro confronti, protrò finire con l'essere annoverata anch'io nel lungo elenco degli afghani che sono morti per la libertà del loro paese. Ma non si può venire a patti con la verità. E non ho paure di una morte prematura, se la mia morte favorirà la cause della giustizia.”

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Book:Raising My Voice
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“His mind drifted oddly. . . . . . . Hard to imagine what moment would be right for a rebellion against so powerful an adversary as an immortal dictator. The group in Jorgia might delay their action too long; he couldn’t wait. Marin frowned sleepily. “Did I think that?” He had not ever before even considered rebellion. And what was that about a Jorgian group? Could it be that, just for an instant, here at the edge of sleep, a Trask plan had slipped through to his consciousness? But why rebellion? It didn’t fit. A man who could shift his awareness and his identity from one body to another didn’t need revolutions. Besides, it would be impossible. The group idea, combined with free enterprise, and pregnant with great ideas, was just beginning to take hold. Like a giant, it strode over the land, crushing all resistance and simultaneously inspiring hope. At such moments men did not listen easily to voices that warned against faraway disaster or urged the possibility of even greater creativity. Again his mind wandered. If they don’t act, he thought, I’ll have to act on my own. He felt relieved that he hadn’t told anyone of his invention. And so, all by himself, he was able to act—on the greatest scale. Marin slept uneasily, and his dreams were vague yet purposeful. He seemed to be permeated with secret plans that were not his own.”

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Book:The Mind Cage
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“I think it comes as no surprise, Miss Lucas, that your time at Strictland must come to an end," the headmaster said. "According to Miss Thornbury's account, you terrorized your fellow classmates before setting the entire gymnasium on fire . . ." "It was only the banners," Vin mumbled. Not because she had held back at all; they just happened to be the most flammable.”

HumourRebellionOh My Goodness I Love ThemThinking Outside The Box
Book:The Last Hope School for Magical Delinquents
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“Weekend Wildlife by Stewart Stafford Praying mantis tapped out code, On waste ground down the road, Legs, wings and antennae spread, A walrus mugged a pensioner in bed. A chameleon joined in the mêlée, Effortlessly cool, a saurian Pelé, Mimicking every backdrop around, Eyeballs akimbo, tongue on ground. Then a herd of Ibex from Iberia, A yak stampede from frigid Siberia, Bomber squadrons of high Cockatoos, As the rest liberated the nearest zoos. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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“Luck is what decides whose name gets written in gold, and whose page is torn out before it begins.”

ExistenceIdentitySurvivalLuckAwakeningInequalityNarrativeControlRebellionErasure
Book:The NPC Versus The Universe: A Metafictional Dystopian Thriller About Rigged Lives, Luck Privilege, and the NPC Who Starts Killing the Protagonists
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“The story didn’t want to kill her. It wanted to write her in. To tame her. To turn her rebellion into a lesson.”

ExistenceIdentitySurvivalLuckAwakeningInequalityNarrativeControlRebellionErasure
Book:The NPC Versus The Universe: A Metafictional Dystopian Thriller About Rigged Lives, Luck Privilege, and the NPC Who Starts Killing the Protagonists
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“Somewhere very far from here, a blank page waits again. But this time, it’s not for a protagonist. It’s for the NPCs.”

ExistenceIdentitySurvivalLuckAwakeningInequalityNarrativeControlRebellionErasure
Book:The NPC Versus The Universe: A Metafictional Dystopian Thriller About Rigged Lives, Luck Privilege, and the NPC Who Starts Killing the Protagonists
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“If we turn to those restrictions that only apply to certain classes of society, we encounter a state of things which is glaringly obvious and has always been recognized. It is to be expected that the neglected classes will grudge the favoured ones their privileges and that they will do everything in their to power to rid themselves of their own surplus of privation. Where this is not possible a lasting measure of discontent will obtain within this culture, and this may lead to dangerous outbreaks. But if a culture has not got beyond the stage in which the satisfaction of one group of its members necessarily involves the suppression of another, perhaps the majority---and this is the case in all modern cultures,---it is intelligible that these suppressed classes should develop an intense hostility to the culture; a culture, whose existence they make possible by their labour, but in whose resources they have too small a share. In such conditions one must not expect to find an internalization of the cultural prohibitions among the suppressed classes; indeed they are not even prepared to acknowledge these prohibitions, intent, as they are, on the destruction of the culture itself and perhaps even of the assumptions on which it rests. These classes are so manifestly hostile to culture that on that account the more latent hostility of the better provided social strata has been overlooked. It need not be said that a culture which leaves unsatisfied and drives to rebelliousness so large a number of its members neither has a prospect of continued existence, nor deserves it.”

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Book:THE FUTURE OF AN ILLUSION
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“Nothing is certain. Many ways lead to destruction. You will be tested beyond your capacity to endure. Should you survive the trials ahead, you will be a husband without a wife, a father without a son, a hero without a quest, and a king without a country. But take heart. Some must lose the way to find it. Some must be empty before they are full, weak before they are strong, and blind before they can see.”

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Book:Seeds of Rebellion
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“If He saw me at my very worst, when drugs, sex, and other fleeting pleasures ruled every portion of my heart, mind, and life, and still chose to die for me, He must still love me now. If He was patient with me when I was living solely for rebellion, He must also be willing to be patient with me now that my heart was softening and I was actually trying. I was still failing, but at least my heart wanted to honor Him now.”

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Book:Pursued: God’s relentless pursuit and a drug addict’s journey to finding purpose
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“She loved herself when she could. She regretted nothing but her limp (not the limp itself, but how it came to be). The world tried to make her feel some other way, though. It had tried to make her bitter about herself. It had tried to turn her own thinking against her. It had tried to make her gaze upon her reflection and judge what she saw as repulsive. She did none of these things. . . When she felt her shape, it evoked in her another outlawed quality: confidence. None of this was visible to the naked eye. It was a silent rebellion, but it was the very privacy of it that she enjoyed most. Because there was precious little of that here—privacy, joy, take your pick.”

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Book:The Prophets
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“Discipline and Rebellion are like night and day. One can’t exist without the other and in that there is equilibrium. Rebellion is natural and you will do it, to whatever scale, at some point, that much is given. What really sets successful people apart from the rest is the response to discipline. At this age, you need to understand that whatever discipline you may receive is a limit. Simply a line in the sand, but the beach is still open.”

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Book:Future Titans
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“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.”

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Book:Letters to a Young Contrarian
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“If we can expect another journey tomorrow, we should secure horses," Ferrin went on. "And if the sun will be shining, perhaps a goat for Aram." "Keep it up," Aram dared him through clenched teeth. "Is a goat too large and unruly?" Ferrin asked? "Maybe we should saddle a raccoon." "Odd how these taunts tend to fade after sundown," Aram growled, taking a large bite of bread. "But a new day always dawns," Ferrin replied. "And we can all use some entertainment." Aram glowered. "Then perhaps tonight I should pull you apart and let the others puzzle you back together." "That's the spirit!" Ferrin applauded. "Taunt back! I get the sense you've seldom had to deal with ridicule." Aram appeared to be resisting a pleased little smile.”

HumorSeedsRebellionBrandonMull
Book:Seeds of Rebellion
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“Jason and Ferrin turned. Aram, face shiny with sweat, pulled a small pair of pants over his skinny legs. His shrunken hands trembled. Ferrin struggled not to smile. He was unsuccessful. Ferrin's involuntary grin forced Jason to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Ferrin noticed and began to shake, eyes watering. Aram hastily pulled on a shirt. Then he folded his arms, glaring grumpily up at the others. "Go ahead, let it out, have a good laugh." They did. Feeding off each other, magnified by the knowledge that their laughter was so inappropriate, their mirth was uncontrollable. Ferrin buried his face, attempting to compose himself. Jason stared at the ground, trying to summon sober thoughts. "We need to go," Aram said indignantly, clambering up onto his suddenly oversized horse. Atop the huge stallion, he looked like a little jockey. Jason coughed out a final laugh. Ferrin shook quietly, wiping tears from flushed cheeks. "Finished?" Aram asked. "You two are ruthless." He looked down at himself. "I guess it's quite a contrast." "We don't mean to rub it in," Jason apologized. "We've already seen you both ways. It isn't that big of a deal." "It doesn't help that you're so shy about it," Ferrin tried to explain. "It was more your expression than anything." "Let's leave it behind us," Aram said, nudging his horse with his heels. The stallion didn't respond. Ferrin buried his face in the crook of his arm. Jason ground his teeth.”

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Book:Seeds of Rebellion
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“What if a pair of us head off on our own?" Nollin proposed, panting. "A small detachment might avoid detection." "It's a gamble," Ferrin said. "If the duo gets noticed, they'll be defenseless. Who'd you have in mind?" "Some key delegates," Nollin said. "Perhaps myself and Aram." Rachel shook her head. Evidently, Nollin had noticed the critical role Aram had played during the escape. Ferrin laughed openly. "Aram, you've been promoted to essential!" "I'm generally more appreciated at night," the big man grumbled. "I'm going to the table, Nollin." "Maybe we should all remain together," Nollin repented.”

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Book:Seeds of Rebellion
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“You don't know how to respond," Ferrin said. "I'll make it easy for you. The safest course of action for your young rebellion would be to toss me off the tallest cliff you can find. I have played a perilous game for years--trading secrets, telling lies, finding leverage, earning trust only to betray it. I got away with an eccentric lifestyle among Maldor's elite by hiding much of what I learned and proving myself too valuable to kill. It was a precarious, unforgiving game. When I released you from Felrook, I miscalculated, and I lost Game over. Bridges burned. But the game is part of my nature. I don't think I can stop playing until I stop breathing.”

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Book:Seeds of Rebellion
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“You have been spying all along," Conrad said, unconvinced. "The manhunt for you was a ruse." "Check with the emperor," Ferrin replied coolly. ... "That will not take long," said a man in the corner, studiously picking at a fingernail with a small knife. He raised his head, wavy gray hair framing his pallid face. He wore a long coat of brown leather. "Torvic!" Ferrin called, the exuberance hollow. "I hadn't seen you over there. Still in touch directly with Felrook? You know, to come clean, I haven't brought Maldor in on my plan yet, so it might be of little use to bother him at this juncture.”

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Author:Brandon Mull
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“Some people were written in ink. They could not be erased. But I was pencil. And now, I’m the one holding the eraser.”

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Book:The NPC Versus The Universe: A Metafictional Dystopian Thriller About Rigged Lives, Luck Privilege, and the NPC Who Starts Killing the Protagonists
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“And for the first time, I distance myself from the personal tragedy that has consumed me since they announced the Quell. I remember the old man they shot in District 11, and Bonnie and Twill, and the rumoured uprisings. Yes, everyone in the districts will be watching me to see how I handle this death sentence, this final act of President Snow's dominance. They will be looking for some sign that their battles have not been in vain. If I can make it clear that I'm still defying the Capitol right up to the end, the Capitol will have killed me...but not my spirit. What better way to give hope to the rebels? The beauty of this idea is that my decision to keep Peeta alive at the expense of my own life is itself an act of defiance. A refusal to play the Hunger Games by the Capitol's rules. My private agenda dovetails completely with my public one. And if I really could save Peeta... in terms of a revolution, this would be ideal. Because I will be more valuable dead. They can turn me into some kind of martyr for the cause and paint my face on banners, and it will do more to rally people than anything I could do if I was living. But Peeta would be more valuable alive, and tragic, because he will be able to turn his pain into words that will transform people.”

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Book:Catching Fire
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“Anyone leading a violent rebellion must be prepared to make an honest assessment regarding the possible casualties to a minority population confronting a well-armed, wealthy majority with a fanatical right wing that would delight in exterminating thousands of black men, women and children.”

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Book:Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?
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“The majority never has right on its side. Never I say! That is one of the social lies that a free, thinking man is bound to rebel against. Who makes up the majority in any given country? Is it the wise men or the fools? I think we must agree that the fools are in a terrible overwhelming majority, all the wide world over. But, damn it, it can surely never be right that the stupid should rule over the clever! (An Enemy of the People, act 4)”

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Book:Oxford Ibsen Vol 6: An Enemy of the People / The Wild Duck / Rosmersholm
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“It's an insidious thing," Wanda said. "It never happens overnight. This kind of thing crept into our community a long time ago. It latched on. It fed on prejudice. Selfishness. Peoples inability to see life through someone else's eyes. And it grew, bigger and bigger, until we got to a point where some people don't even question why a cop should be allowed to shoot first and ask questions later.”

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Book:Anger Is a Gift
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