There is no love apart from the deeds of love; no potentiality of love other than that which is manifested in loving.

You see, the contemporary writer must write through his intimations of unease, while trying to elucidate them.

The real nature of the present revealed itself: it was what exists, all that was not present did not exist.

We will freedom for freedom’s sake, in and through particular circumstances. And in thus willing freedom, we discover that it depends entirely upon the freedom of others and that the freedom of others depends upon our own. Obviously, freedom as the definition of a man does not depend upon others, but as soon as there is a commitment, I am obliged to will the liberty of others at the same time as my own. I cannot make liberty my aim unless I make that of others equally my aim.

There is no human nature, since there is no god to conceive it.

If I relegate impossible Salvation to the prop room, what remains? A whole man, composed of all men and as good as all of them and no better than any.

To be responsible is to be the uncontested author of an event or thing.