Quotes About Freedom

GENERALLY PEOPLE LIKE TO MOVE ON, Death hinted. THEY LOOK FORWARD TO AN AFTERLIFE. "I Will Stay Here, Please." HERE? THERE'S NOTHING TO DO HERE, said Death. "Yes, I Know," said the ghost of the golem. "It Is Perfect. I Am Free.

And what do they talk about beyond the barricade, my little lad?" "Um…well, Justice an' Truth an' Freedom and stuff," said Nobby. "Aha. Rebel talk!" said Carcer, straightening up. "Is it?" said the major. "Take it from me, major," said Carcer. "When you get a bunch of people using words like that, they're up to no good.

YOU WILL NOT TELL THE RIVERS NOT TO FLOW. YOU WILL NOT TELL THE SUN NOT TO SHINE. YOU WILL NOT TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD AND SHOULD NOT DO.

Tell the wee hag who we are, lads," said the helmet twiddler. There was the scrape of many small swords being drawn and thrust into the air. "Nac Mac Feegle! The Wee Free Men! Nae king! Nae quin! Nae laird! Nae master! We willna be fooled again!

all freedom is limited, artificial, and therefore illusory, a shared hallucination at best. No sane mortal is truly free, because true freedom is so terrible that only the mad or the divine can face it with open eyes.

For several years he hadn't moved outside a large, airy room, but this was OK, because he spent most of his time inside his own head in any case. There's a certain type of person it's very hard to imprison.

This was, after all, Ankh-Morpork, where a man walked free even if he was not, strictly speaking, a man.

He held the flag like a banner of defiance. 'You can take our lives but you'll never take our freedom!' he screamed. Carcer's men looked at one another, puzzled by what sounded like the most badly thought-out war cry in the history of the universe.

They couldn't do anything worse to him than he had coming to him already. He felt free at last.

The poor devils. They thought a king would make them free.

You Say To People 'Throw Off Your Chains' And They Make New Chains For Themselves?

To be fucking human, to not put too fine a point on it, and Daniel Boone can kiss my ass.

When silence is a choice, it is an unnerving presence. When silence is imposed, it is censorship.

My spiritual life is found inside the heart of the wild.

Your voice is the wildest thing you own," Brooke says to me. "And you're giving it away. You can't see it. Your obsession is blinding you." He is angry. He is talking in shorthand. "You're losing yourself.

Boundaries are fears made manifest, designed to protect us. I don't want protection, I want freedom.

I am a woman with wings,' I once wrote and will revise these words again. 'I am a woman with wings dancing with other women with wings.' In a voiced community, we all flourish.

Words empower us, move us beyond our suffering and set us free. This is the sorcery of literature. We are healed by our stories.

Writing becomes an act of compassion toward life, the life we so often refuse to see because if we look too closely or feel too deeply, there may be no end to our suffering. But words empower us, move us beyond our suffering, and set us free. This is the sorcery of literature. We are healed by our stories.

Conversation is the vehicle for change. We test our ideas. We hear our own voice in a concert with another. And inside those pauses of listening, we approach new territories of thought. A good argument, call it a discussion, frees us. Words fly out of our mouths like threatened birds. Once released, they may never return. If they do, they have chosen home and the bird-worms are calmed into an ars poetica.

Space is the twin sister of time. If we have open space then we have open time to breathe, to dream, to dare, to play, to pray to move freely, so freely, in a world our minds have forgotten, but our bodies remember.

For far too long we have been seduced into walking a path that did not lead us to ourselves. For far too long we have said yes when we wanted to say no. And for far too long we have said no when we desperately wanted to say yes.

Where does America end and Mexico begin? This is its own country, borderless by nature, unowned, unbowed, complete. Boundaries are fears made manifest, designed to protect us. I don't want protection, I want freedom.

The erosion of democracy and decency feels like a widening crack on the face of liberty.