Best 5891 quotes in «freedom quotes» category

This energy feels like a pull from the ancestors, helping me to find my own way, to transcend my own fears.

This “freedom” put a proud people in chains And turned free men into slaves “Independence” made us weak And slaughtered us In the name of kindness This is democracy by the whip And the fear of chains With a whirlwind at its core

This is a landscape of dreams cemented in the past, of hopes gone cold, of girls and boys for rent in officially empty tower blocks, where none is truly so.

This is a party that used to embrace freedom but now they've abandoned the principles of Thomas Jefferson and adopted the tactics of Joseph Stalin.' he says. And he, (Eric O'Keefe) notes that those tactics are even aimed at fellow Democrats who don't fall in line.

This is just the way life is – sometimes cruel, sometimes beautiful, all the time confusing and frightening and exhilarating – and we just have to deal with it. That’s what freedom is.

This is no place for limits.

This is not for your entertainment. This is for your evolution.

This is not the first time that the world has been in a mess but you are still God, you left us on the earth, not only to preach in a building but to be the church beyond the buildings.

This is our Country, there is nobody else who is going to come from outside to defend us. We need to wake up and defend ourselves to make this Country a beautiful and better Country for all of us.

This is our sacred land, Bharat, a land whose glories are sung by the Gods, a land visualized by Mahayogi Aurobindo as the living manifestation of the Divine Mother of the universe, the Jaganmaataa, the Aadishakti, the Mahaamaayaa, the Mahaadurgaa, Who has assumed concrete form to enable us to see Her and worship Her,...a land worshipped by all our seers and sages as Maatrubhoomi, Dharmabhoomi, Karmabhoomi and Punybhoomi, a veritable Devabhoomi and Mokshabhoomi" -

This is the one thing I hope: that she never stopped. I hope when her body couldn’t run any farther she left it behind like everything else that tried to hold her down, she floored the pedal and she went like wildfire, streamed down night freeways with both hands off the wheel and her head back screaming to the sky like a lynx, white lines and green lights whipping away into the dark, her tires inches off the ground and freedom crashing up her spine. I hope every second she could have had came flooding through that cottage like speed wind: ribbons and sea spray, a wedding ring and Chad’s mother crying, sun-wrinkles and gallops through wild red brush, a baby’s first tooth and its shoulder blades like tiny wings in Amsterdam Toronto Dubai; hawthorn flowers spinning through summer air, Daniel’s hair turning gray under high ceilings and candle flames and the sweet cadences of Abby’s singing. Time works so hard for us, Daniel told me once. I hope those last few minutes worked like hell for her. I hope in that half hour she lived all her million lives.

This is the beginning of a new time,” Torius said, “a great moment for us. One of us has learnt the Tongue and freed a princess. I have saved him and killed the guards. No longer will we be slaves. No longer will the guards tell us what to do. No longer will we listen. We will fight till we get what we want!” A roar exploded from the children around him. “This is a revolution,” Torius went on. “You all remember the pain that you have felt when the guards have touched you. You all know the shame we carry within us at being treated like this. No more! We will stand!

This is the upside to crashing: madly letting go and giving yourself to someone else. This is the freedom beyond the fear.

This is true freedom: to be capable of leaving ourselves, crossing the boundaries of our little world to open up the universe.

This is what happens when the state intervenes in a person’s private life; it creates two separate personas. It compels you either to lead two separate lives, or to violate what’s imposed on you when the state isn’t looking.

This little girl will be fearless. She’ll do whatever she wants. She won’t feel as scared as me.” A quiet mantra, she repeated it daily.

This kind of action is a prevalent error among oppressed peoples. It is based upon the false notion that there is only a limited and particular amount of freedom that must be divided up between us, with the largest and juiciest pieces of liberty going as spoils to the victor or the stronger. So instead of joining together to fight for more, we quarrel between ourselves for a larger slice of the one pie. Black women fight between ourselves over men, instead of pursuing and using who we are and our strengths for lasting change; Black women and men fight between ourselves over who has more of a right to freedom, instead of seeing each other's struggles as part of our own and vital to our common goals; Black and white women fight between ourselves over who is the more oppressed, instead of seeing those areas in which our causes are the same. (Of course, this last separation is worsened by the intransigent racism that white women too often fail to, or cannot, address in themselves.)

This is why there is something awful about human freedom. This power to make a choice which will never cease to reverberate.

This Land Is Protected By Million’s Blood Bath, If Needed, We’ll Fight Again By Sipping The Death Bowl....

This morning I woke up, how blessed I am Eyes to see, a voice to speak Words to read and love to feel? If this isn't something to be thankful for, I'm not sure what is.

This old, folkish layer survives in us all, and to speak as I really think, I do not consider religion the most adequate means of keeping it under lock and key. For that, literature alone avails, humanistic science, the ideal of the free and beautiful human being.

This revolution will be noted. It will be successful and above all, it will be in words.

This path of 'Akram' (step-less path to Self-realization) is of a different kind. This is a science (vignan)! Vignan means that which liberates just by knowing it!!!

This story is always yours for the telling. This has always been yours. You can expand to fill it all or take up the smallest corner. You can write in invisible ink. You can tell your story in red wine stains and spilled ink and bite marks. You can only write in pencil so it can always be erased. You can write in layers, and turn the page and write sideways. You can spin spiral and make your words dance. You can ink it on the surface of your skin or x-ray vision the story onto the blank canvas of your bones. You can write a novel and then let the whole thing dissolve in the waves. You can write the truth and bury it in the ground, throw it in the fire, fold it into paper airplanes and watch it fly, roll it into a note in a bottle and toss it in the ocean and let it find its own way home. Or, you share it with the whole fucking world. You can care and not care and care-not-care all at once. But you get to write. And you get to choose the story you tell. And there’s no freedom bigger or bolder or braver than that.

This, then, is true liberty: the joy that comes in doing what is right. At the same time, it is also devoted service in obedience to righteous precept.

This witnessing consciousness, this formless dimension of yourself, is the awareness in which your experience happens, yet it remains untouched by this experience at all times. It is similar to the background of white on which you are reading these words. This white background allows any and every word to exist within it, yet it is not confined to any of these words. Similarly, your awareness allows any and every form to exist within it, but it is not bound to any of these forms.

This was something they could not take from us - the freedom to imagine, to create new worlds beyond this one.

This way I prayed: "Slake the dumb thirst Of singing with a sweet libation!" But to the earthling of the earth There can be no liberation. Like smoke from sacrifice, that it could not Fly Strength- and Glory-ward -- alas - But only clouded at the feet And, as if praying, kissed the grass. Thus I, O Lord, before thee bow: Will reach the fire of the sky My lashes that are closed for now And muteness utter and divine?

Those people who shoot endless time-lapse films of unfurling roses and tulips have the wrong idea. They should train their cameras instead on the melting of pack ice, the green filling of ponds, the tidal swings…They should film the glaciers of Greenland, some of which creak along at such a fast clip that even the dogs bark at them. They should film the invasion of the southernmost Canadian tundra by the northernmost spruce-fir forest, which is happening right now at the rate of a mile every 10 years. When the last ice sheet receded from the North American continent, the earth rebounded 10 feet. Wouldn’t that have been a sight to see?

Those rabbits stopped fighting the system, because it was easier to take the loss of freedom, to forget what it was like before the fence kept them in, than to be out there in the world struggling to find shelter and food. They had decided that the loss of some was worth the temporary comfort of many.

Those who claim to be hurt by words must be led to expect nothing as compensation. Otherwise, once they learn they can get something by claiming to be hurt, they will go into the business of being offended.

...those thoroughly incorporated within the inexorable logic of the market and its demands find that there is little time and space in which to explore emancipatory potentialities outside what is marketed as 'creative' adventure, leisure, and spectacle. Obliged to live as appendages of the market and of capital accumulation rather than as expressive beings, the realm of freedom shrinks before the awful logic and the hollow intensity of market involvements

Those who are not free to live as they choose are second class citizens. The weak will lose everything to the strong, even their lives.

Those who achieve the extraordinary are usually the most ordinary because they have nothing to prove to anybody. Be Humble.

Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves, and, under a just God cannot retain it.

Those who expect to be both ignorant and free, expect what never was and never will be.

Those who have suffered in the hands of others,know what it is to be free.

Those who hide in the shadows don't want to be found. They want to be free.

Those who wish to fly will always find their wings.

Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety. --Benjamin Franklin, Historical Review of Pennsylvania, 1759

Those who see the truth as trouble will end up having to see trouble as the truth.

Though many seem to be independent, they experience conscious captivity because they spend their life conforming to the ideals of others, but never let their own amazing true self, shine on the face of this earth.

Thou art sore troubled in mind for the people in the world’s sake: loves thou that people better than he that made them?

Though gay men have begun to understand it is something in themselves these upright men so fear, too many of us have internalized their self-hatred as shame. That the flesh and the spirit are one in love is none of the business of the celibate men of God, especially those who believe they rule the province of love. But the mission of the homophobe is more pernicious even than his morality. He wants every one of us to be all alone, never to find the beloved friend. A man ought to be free to find his reason. Not that freedom alone will serve it up: it requires the gods’ own fury of luck to get two people to meet. But when it finally happens, two men in love can’t rejoice out loud—joy of the very thing everyone burns for—without bracing for the rant of prophets, the schoolyard bully, and Rome’s “intrinsic evil.” I try to remember that we fight as a ragged people to outlast the calamity so that others can sleep as safe as my friend and I, like a raft in the tempest.

Though it may sound paradoxical, identifying our thoughts, emotions, and habitual patterns of behavior is the key to freedom & transformation.

Though no longer living in silence, I continued to carry pain and memories.

Though the wind was commanding the sand into even ridges, it couldn't control the sea.

...though the Elders are connected to the Great Spirit, they are still only elves.

Thou hast given a right judgment, but why judge thou not thyself also?

Throughout world history, all freedom has been no more than repetitious abolishment of what has already been abolished. There is no end to the killing of weeds.