223 Quotes About Protest

Motorbike - Poem by Malay Roy ChoudhuryI am on motorbike yezdi yamahawhen flanked by horizon gallop backwards through sand blizzardtinsel clouds explode at my feet without helmetand speed-split air at eightyin midsummer simooneach sound-cart recedesonrushing lorries flee in a flashNo time to brood but Yesaccident expected anytimemay even turn into a junkheap in a drought-nursed field.Translation of Bengali original 'Motor Cycle

Protest is not a sign of rebellion or disconnection—at least, it shouldn’t be. Quite to the contrary, protest should demonstrate love and investment. It should be a sign that we are so invested that we are not willing to settle or surrender.We protest because something or someone we care about is being hurt or diminished. Protest is not the action of an outsider or someone who is walking away. It is the responsibility of relationship—those who refuse to disconnect.

I remember going on a protest when I was 14. We sat down in the city's busiest junction. We stopped all the cars until the police or some thugs dragged us away.

Ik had de discussie in gedachten al gewonnen en het zou zonde zijn om die triomf op het spel te zetten in de weerbarstige werkelijkheid. Bovendien zagen de betogers er niet uit alsof ze op discussie zaten ze wachten. Hun eigen gelijk was hun genoeg.

My fault started two decades ago, the first time I didn't vote, the umpteen times I told Jackie I was too busy to go on one of her marches or make posters or call my congressmen.

A seat at the table is desired. But I'll scream from the street if I need to.

Connell doesn't read the campus papers much, but he has still managed to hear about the debating society inviting a neo-Nazi to give a speech. It's all over social media. There was even an article in The Irish Times. Connell hasn't commented on any of the Facebook threads, but has liked several comments calling for the invite to be rescinded, which is probably the most strident political action he has ever taken in his life.

Mrs. Fannie Lou Hamer, a sharecropper in Ruleville, Mississippi, became legendary as organizer and speaker. She sang hymns; she walked picket lines with her familiar limp (as a child she contracted polio). She roused people to excitement at mass meetings: "I'm sick an' tired o' bein' sick an' tired!

Overlooked in this ominous depiction might be our country’s best- kept secret: in dealing with the most challenging issues of every gener- ation, resistance to duplicitous civil authority and its corporate enablers has defined our quintessential American story.