The Stranger (n.) is the other who regards me even when he has nothing to do with me, fellow man and always stranger.
The Stranger (n.) is the one who disturbs my being at home — and stranger also means the free one, over whom I have no power.
The Stranger (n.) is the one I have neither conceived nor given birth to, yet already bear in my arms as the nurse bears the nurseling.
The Stranger (n.) when welcomed is not a corollary of faith but its very content, and before being a fellow creature with convictions to oppose he is one towards whom one is obligated.
The Stranger (n.) or poor one presents himself as an equal, because in his very destitution he already serves a third; he joins me to himself for service and commands me to command.
The Stranger (n.) has a strangeness that is freedom and also destitution — the Other as exile, stranger, proletarian, the nakedness of his face extending into a body that is cold.
The Stranger (n.) on the earth — 'I am a stranger on the earth, do not hide from me your commandments' — is not an exiled soul but one whose foreignness is prolonged into obligations toward others.