Freedom (n.) consists in knowing that freedom is in peril.
Freedom (n.) is to receive nothing from the Other but what is already in me.
Freedom (n.) that is arbitrary reads its shame in the eyes that look at me.
Freedom (n.) of the difficult kind arises when God holds you without letting you go, but without enslaving you.
Freedom (n.) that is apolitical is an illusion of people who already belong to an advanced stage of political evolution.
Freedom (n.) and unfreedom are not the final line between the human and the nonhuman, nor between sense and nonsense.
Freedom (n.) is hearing a vocation to which I alone can respond — the capability-to-respond right there, where I am called.
Freedom (n.) is animation, breath — breathing outside air, where inwardness frees itself from itself and lies open to every wind.
Freedom (n.) is maintaining oneself against the other — securing the autarchy of an I despite every relation.
Freedom (n.) of the One — its famous beatitude — consists in negating or absorbing the other so as to encounter nothing.
Freedom (n.) springs from obeying Being: man does not possess freedom; freedom possesses man.
Freedom (n.) is doing only what no one else could do in my place — obeying the Most High is being free.
Freedom (n.) before the face is discovered to be murderous and usurpatory, and that discovery is not self-knowledge but heteronomy through and through.
Freedom (n.) called finite poses more than it solves, for a will limited by its situation still keeps a pure, untouched freedom beyond it.
Freedom (n.) that classical philosophy missed: not negating oneself, but having one's being pardoned by the very alterity of the other.
Freedom (n.) in the Western spirit is the feeling that man is renewed eternally before the universe — that, speaking absolutely, he has no history.
Freedom (n.) as a bare idea is still a creature's chance to posit itself for itself, like a second God to whom everything is allowed.
Freedom (n.) is our first feeling and ineradicable illusion, even when we are caught in the gears of a universal mechanism.
Freedom (n.) that is true would require a true present — one that, at the peak of a destiny, forever recommences it.
Freedom (n.) interrupts the determinism of war and matter, yet does not escape the fate of essence — it still happens inside history's epic.