Freedom (n.) is infinite and appears to be nothing. It is called nothing because it is the infinite possibility of human existence.
Freedom (n.) is voluntarily enduring one's fate — freely suffering what necessity imposes.
Freedom (n.) as an infinite passion for equality in human relationships is the nerve of spiritual existence, which one cannot sacrifice even for love, since without it one does not exist.
Freedom (n.) is felt in choice only when one surrenders oneself to necessity, and in surrendering to it forgets it.
Freedom (n.) does not mean giving up one's passion, but using the passion of infinity by which one could give it up — in order to hold it fast.
Freedom (n.) is truly expressed as a need in the free: the one so dependent on his love that he would lose everything in losing it — he is independent.
Freedom (n.) is the thing men never use but always demand: having freedom of thought, they clamor for freedom of speech.
Freedom (n.) is lost as soon as you are one of several: with a wife it is difficult to send for your traveling boots; with a wife and child, troublesome; with a wife and children, impossible.
Freedom (n.) is first given to a man, positively, by marriage — which frees him from people precisely by binding him to one person.
Freedom (n.) excludes the other side, where thought combines both in a higher unity; it grows perfect not by absorbing evil but by excluding it more and more.
Freedom (n.) lives genuinely in inward work, which 'follows' a man unto eternity, for joy or sorrow; philosophy, regarding only outward works in history, has nothing to do with it.
Freedom (n.) cannot entangle: to be caught up and enmeshed while standing in freedom is a contradiction.
Freedom (n.) makes the self jealous of itself once its passion is aroused: it will not leave undetermined what belongs to it — giving account for every idle word.
Freedom (n.) can be kept only by constantly realizing it; he who has chosen himself is eo ipso active.
Freedom (n.) is never possible: the moment it is possible, it is already actual.
Freedom (n.) faints in dizziness, and when it rises again it sees that it is guilty; between the two moments lies the leap no science can explain.
Freedom (n.) is, for the religious genius, not freedom to become king, emperor or a street-corner ranter, but freedom to know of himself that he is freedom.
Freedom (n.) has as its opposite not necessity but guilt; set it against necessity and you have confused it with force.
Freedom (n.) is infinite and arises out of nothing; to treat good and evil as its menu finitizes both freedom and good and evil.