Withdrawal (n.) draws us along by its very withdrawal, as migratory birds are caught in a draft.
Withdrawal (n.) is term referring to the way things are always partly concealed from us, never completely present-at-hand.
Withdrawal (n.) of be-ing must be lit up so that it does not appear as a mere nothing but reigns as gifting.
Withdrawal (n.) keeps and develops its own incomparable nearness: what turns away from us is never simply far.
Withdrawal (n.) is not nothing but an event: what withdraws may claim us more essentially than anything present that strikes us.
Withdrawal (n.) of possibilities is not loss but what makes the remaining ones actual: only because some doors close can the rest become our world.
Withdrawal (n.) of being is not nothing: it sucks human activity into its wake until man thinks he meets only himself everywhere — while his self is just his existence used up in the service of total work.