Quotes About Freedom

When I returned home that day, I saw my life as if I already knew the happy ending of a story. I looked around the house and thought, soon I will no longer have to see these walls and all the unhappiness they keep inside.

Do you know what morals are Violet? They're other people's rules. Do you know what a conscience is? Freedom to use your own intelligence to determine what is right or wrong. You possess that freedom and no one can remove it from you

A good government had to guide its people, sometimes gently, sometimes strictly, just as parents did. It could allow certain freedoms, but in a style that suited the country.

I read to escape to a more interesting world, not to be locked up in a sweltering prison and find myself vicariously standing among people who are tortured beyond the limits of sanity.

And all that talk about the breakup being good for us- who am I trying to fool? I'm cut loose, untethered, not belonging to anything or anybody.

Being a dominatrix gave me the ultimate power: to sing without self-consciousness.

What was worse, we asked among ourselves, to sit and wait for our own deaths with proper somber faces? Or to choose our own happiness?

What was worse, we asked ourselves, to sit and wait for our own deaths with proper somber faces? Or to choose our own happiness?

Llevaba un hermoso vestido rojo, pero lo que vi era incluso más valioso. Yo era fuerte. Era pura. Albergaba en mi interior unos pensamientos genuinos que nadie podría arrebatarme jamás. Yo era como el viento.

But I'll never forget. On the day of the Festival of Pure Brightness, I take off all my bracelets. I remember the day when I finally knew a genuine thought and could follow where it went. That was the day I was a young girl with my face under a red marriage scarf. I promised not to forget myself. How nice it is to be that girl again, to take off my scarf, to see what is underneath and feel the lightness come back into my body!

I was like a bird, my wings once carried on a wind of lies. I would beat those wings to stay aloft, and when the wind suddenly died or buffeted me around, I would keep beating those strong wings and fly in my own slice of wind

He should go away and study, let his mind wander freely. Until then, he should not be obeisant in spirit to those who trampled it.

Do you know what morals are, Violet? They're other people's rules. Do you know what a conscience is? Freedom to use your own intelligence to determine what is right or wrong. You possess that freedom and no one can remove it from you. Whenever others disapprove of you, you must disregard them and be the only one to judge your own decisions and actions …

Podrán callarnos, pero no pueden impedir que tengamos nuestras propias opiniones.

Las personas libres jamás podrán concebir lo que los libros significan para quienes vivimos encerrados.

Cuándo se nos concederá el privilegio de respirar aire fresco?

Tengo la sensación de ser un pájaro enjaulado, al que han arrancado las alas violentamente, y en la más absoluta penumbra, choca contra los barrotes de su estrecha jaula, al querer volar.

I disregard the proportions, the measures, the tempo of the ordinary world. I refuse to live in the ordinary world as ordinary women. To enter ordinary relationships. I want ecstasy. I am a neurotic — in the sense that I live in my world. I will not adjust myself to the world. I am adjusted to myself.

I reserve the right to love many different people at once, and to change my prince often.

When we blindly adopt a religion, a political system, a literary dogma, we become automatons.

To hell, to hell with balance! I break glasses; I want to burn, even if I break myself. I want to live only for ecstasy. I'm neurotic, perverted, destructive, fiery, dangerous - lava, inflammable, unrestrained.

I am aware of being in a beautiful prison, from which I can only escape by writing.

The important task of literature is to free man, not to censor him, and that is why Puritanism was the most destructive and evil force which ever oppressed people and their literature: it created hypocrisy, perversion, fears, sterility.

Why one writes is a question I can answer easily, having so often asked it of myself. I believe one writes because one has to create a world in which one can live. I could not live in any of the worlds offered to me — the world of my parents, the world of war, the world of politics. I had to create a world of my own, like a climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and recreate myself when destroyed by living. That, I believe, is the reason for every work of art.