Quotes About Freedom

Abstente de hacer lo que deseas, y podrás entonces hacer lo que te plazca».

God is pulling man and maya is pulling man, and man is free to move toward either.

true devotee is finally freed from all instinctive compulsions. He transforms his need for human affection into aspiration for God alone—a love solitary because omnipresent. Sri

Mind, nor intellect, nor ego, feeling; Sky nor earth nor metals am I. I am He, I am He, Blessed Spirit, I am He! No birth, no death, no caste have I; Father, mother, have I none. I am He, I am He, Blessed Spirit, I am He! Beyond the flights of fancy, formless am I, Permeating the limbs of all life; Bondage I do not fear; I am free, ever free, I am He, I am He, Blessed Spirit, I am He!

If you don't like my words, you are at liberty to leave at any time, Master assured me. I want nothing from you but your own improvement. Stay only if you feel benefited.

Man's conscious state is an awareness of body and breath. His subconscious state, active in sleep, is associated with his mental, and temporary, separation from body and breath. His superconscious state is a freedom from the delusion that "existence" depends on body and breath.

I understood, later, that the explosive vibratory power in speech could be wisely directed to free one's life from difficulties, and thus operate without scar or rebuke.12

that the explosive vibratory power in speech could be wisely directed to free one's life from difficulties and thus operate without scar or rebuke.12

God gave freedom to man, and man has misused that freedom; this is the cause of all suffering.

Don't waste energy living a life someone else designed for you. Life is one per customer. Let them do theirs. You do yours.

What made his face burn was a sense of failure, the yearning for freedom that remained unfulfilled and the acute realisation that he didn't know anything.

Hot.  Tropical, damp climates always made the skin sticky and hot.  Feverishly so.  Sometimes, I thought my very flesh would melt and hang from my bones like Spanish moss.  In Paris I whirled in lightness and freedom . . . flinging the past away until I felt cool and alive again.  But . . . the oppression came back, didn't it?  I shivered, it still held me down, sucked my breath away.

Would you really have married the man who'd killed your brothers? Well, first of all, I wouldn't have been given a choice. But yes, probably. Yes. I was a slave, and a slave will do anything, anything at all, to stop being a thing and become a person again. I just don't know how you could do that. Well, no, of course you don't. You've never been a slave.

We have to die, we don't have to worship it.

It should not be a crime to discuss any idea, however outrageous

S/M flies in the face of every attempt the state makes to appropriate our bodies, our labor, our time, and our imaginations.…the state is deeply offended by any group of people who say, 'My body doesn't belong to you, it belongs to me, so fuck off'…

She was one of those Southerners who knew from an early age that the South could never be more for them than a fragrant prison, administered by a collective of loving but treacherous relatives.

Men are prisoners of their genitalia and women are the keepers of the keys to paradise.

We had made the error of staying small – and there is no more unforgivable crime in America.

Yet I can walk away from best friends and rarely think of them again. I can close a door and not look back. There's something about my soul that's always ready to go, to break camp, to unfold the road map, to leave at night when the house inspection's done and the civilians are asleep and the open road is calling...

I do not think I was a hothead—not then and not now. I thought I was right. I had read the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bible. Segregation seemed evil from the time I was a boy. Slavery is an abomination on the American soul, ineradicable stain on our body politic. But Penn Center lit a fire that has never gone out, and the election of President Barack Obama was one of the happiest days of my life.

On the road, he was alive, vibrant, moving. It didn't afford the freedom of a jet plane flying through a clear sky, but a highway offered something almost as profound, an entry into the secret regions of the earth where towns with foreign, unrecallable names were violated once, then forgotten for all time.

Her eyes were our keys to the palace of wildness.

began to savor the thrilling taste that freedom of the road grants to Americans as our birthright. There is nothing like the automobile to make you fall in love with the laden profligate majesty of the American landscape.