Will (n.) is the subject's certainty of its own actuality and of the world's non-actuality.
Will (n.) along with conscience and character is our very own with an intensity and permanency that feelings never have.
The Will (n.) is not a faculty separate from thinking, but is a particular way of thinking whereby thinking translates itself into existence.
Will (n.) that wills only the abstract universal wills nothing, and so is no will: I do not will merely, I will something.
Will (n.) in its natural state is itself a violence against freedom — which is why the teacher's force against rudeness is not really the first violence.
Will (n.) is not inherently good; it is only what it sets itself to, and becomes what it is only by its work.
Will (n.) without thought is not will at all: whoever rejects thought and speaks of freedom does not know what he is saying.
Will (n.) is the only thing standing in the way of its own goal, because it cuts itself off from knowing and refuses to grant the world true being.
Will (n.) in its natural state is not innocent — the moment the natural is willed by a free being it is no longer nature but the negative of the good.
Will (n.) is mind aware that it is the author of its own conclusions; its finitude is that this ownness is still abstract, not yet matured reason.
Will (n.) is thought determining itself: without thought there is no will, even the uneducated wills only so far as he thinks, and the animal, not thinking, cannot will.
Will (n.) is not a second faculty beside thought — man does not keep will in one pocket and thought in another; will is thought translating itself into reality.
Will (n.) wants to make the world what it ought to be — yet if the world were as it ought to be, willing would vanish; so the will itself requires that its purpose not be realised.
Will (n.) in the sense of a testament gives caprice free scope: in it I reveal to whom I have inclination, and inclination can be obtained surreptitiously.