Openness (n.) is the essence of truth.
Openness (n.) seems the emptiest of the empty — but only if we try to take it by itself, like a thing.
Openness (n.) does not stand ready for us to move into; it occurs first of all, and only, along with the displacing.
Openness (n.) is the leeway or play-space man must already have — in which beings are manifest — before he can weigh the to-and-fro of true or false.
Openness (n.) is not a state but an occurrence — and not only knowing, but every comportment, and above all attunement, belongs to it.
Openness (n.) of man for beings is not a gaping emptiness waiting to be filled but a free holding oneself toward whatever is given, letting oneself be bound by it.
Openness (n.) is like the hollow of a jug: not an emptiness left over by the walls, but what calls the walls forth and sustains them.