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Why and How We Study Philosophy
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So as to study, philosophy means that by and by—when we have
decided to become philosophical men and women (because this is the
only thing to do that will bring us into creative freedom)—we
will have to look through the main body of philosophical thought.
There is no progress in philosophy in the sense that we can ever
forget about Plato or Kant, but this does not mean, however, that
we have to study philosophy in the sense of history of philosophy
(then we would have to undergo real discipline). It means only to
get into the matter itself and then to proceed by preference, taking
up first the decisive fundamental things (as the early Platonic
dialogues). That is the beginning of what we could call “How
to Study Philosophy” for people who want to be creative in
other fields of life (which means everything that moves metaphysically
and according to eternal principles) and who are aware that they
can become more so and better so if they become philosophical men.
For those people the way of studying is a way of preference—the
same way you go about art: by taking to the masters that are nearest
to you. And so a few attempts to look at some of the great philosophers
should be made by anyone of you who makes that decision. Find out
who is the one who tells you the most, going leisurely but constantly
about it.
If we move according to the original decision and come to believe
and to think it is so, we have to take the responsibility for all
those things; and if we don’t go back to religion, we have
to take it just as seriously as religious people take their belief
and faith. It would perhaps mean—if we could bring ourselves
back to the iron rule of Sunday, so to speak—that not a Sunday
would pass without a certain lne of philosophical thinking about
a certain philosopher (not just reading), and that not a Sunday
would pass without a great work of art to meditate upon and take
into one’s self. If we dare to make the decision to go this
way, it might mean to find God at the end after we have done our
task in the world, but it means first to undertake the daring enterprise
of thinking we should not pray for help because we want freedom
for the Absolute and it means that we should agree to take our decision
as seriously as religious people take theirs. It means not to think
that by taking a few courses and reading a little we have done enough,
but to do it continuously, and though we can do it in leisure, to
know that we are not able to live without it any more.
Lecture XIII
After having discovered freedom—this freedom possible when
no longer restricted by the assumption of God or the cosmos—after
having assumed the responsibility that necessarily must accompany
this freedom, after having made the decision for life and for transforming
the given into the meaningful, changing chains of occurrences into
lines of events, we discover a funny things:--having found freedom
to the full by moving away from God, once in full freedom we can
and do move towards God—or in other words: it is not God who
assures us of freedom but freedom that assures us of God. Having
gone through the nihilistic situation, we have to decide to start
only with what we have—and we find that what we have is surprisingly
more than we thought: the possibility of freedom. If we become aware
of and start with the quality of man—with his being a metaphysical
being, a being who is becoming, a being who can change into becoming—then
we start in a line where in the end God will become absolutely probably
out of freedom—not religiously so but with faith, real faith.
God as the Creator could finally be the result of philosophy.
First, philosophy was the result of religion, then it criticized
and finally abolished religion. After this was done, we found that
by creative philosophical thinking, starting from freedom, there
follows a philosophical line that moves constantly towards faith.
This faith is free faith and is developed out of the life of man
himself without taking God in as an argument. As that life, as well
as the world that we create, becomes more and more meaningful, as
we find more and more that we ourselves have the infinite possibility
of creating meaning, of creating world, life becomes more and more
marvelous and with the growing of the marvelous, faith grows. As
well as science can reject the marvelous by explaining it away,
we can put the marvelous character back in things—changing
the world into a natural paradise, giving its marvels back to nature
by bringing it back into the context of meaning—and finally
realizing that dream of man.
Again the marveling of man will deepen, and the more the procedure
is going on the more probable God becomes and the more pure faith
will go into it—faith that is not there to see or to ask things
of God, but the way of pure faith where only thanks is left. We
can make possible this way of thanks—this way of giving thanks
for something that was given to us that we could only make more
and more marvelous—which is the creative way of philosophical
thinking (which is related to all the other creative thinking of
man). When all the creative abilities of man are related to that
source again, then they will all move in that direction and finally
change us from receivers to givers, and with that, faith will unavoidably
develop without the need of belief, commandments or ritual—growing
out of the experience of the marvel of life.
So the world history of the human mind then has been this one great
period which ended by destroying and losing religion and coming
into the nihilistic situation, changing ourselves first into men
absolutely uncreative and casting ourselves into slavery. But as
a result of having been able along with this to abolish the fear
that we had of nature, we were able to get a grip on nature. We,
who started as the children of nature but always afraid of it, have
finally lost fear; but we have also lost a great possibility by
taking nature as a thing to be used by us recklessly, which is our
situation now. We have fallen out of this first period into the
darkness of the nihilistic situation, which has brought us into
the spoilage of nature and our lives. But if we take the nihilistic
formula, “Nothing is true; everything is permitted,”
and turn it around, does it not mean that if we can say nothing
is true, it means that we can say what truth is? We judge it by
truth, so what is meaning is the truth—the truth that we are
is the criterion, the truth that we are is what we used to say was
no meaning, but it only means that we are the ones who have meaning.
That is how near the nihilistic position is to the position of absolute
freedom—just one turn around and we come out of the nihilistic
position. So we accept it and say that it means freedom for man.
If everything is permitted, it means that we decide what we permit
and what is permitted—which means that we can either make
a decision for freedom or a decision against freedom (this is our
original arbitrariness).
If we make the decision against freedom, it means we make a decision
against life and for death; we make the decision to go on spoiling
everything, to take no responsibility, to set ourselves as absolute
and with that to relate everything to ourselves and to destroy ourselves.
If we make the decision for freedom, it means we make a decision
for creativeness and for our ability to make meaning, and—since
they are the conditions for creative freedom itself—it means
that we also make a decision for that set of principles of human
freedom: truth, reason, justice, beauty, love (for all the things
that Plato once called eternal ideas). If we decide for freedom,
we decide for them—and only by deciding for them can they
be established because their existence depends upon us and upon
our decision to try to establish them. We the ones who are aware
of transcendental truth (and the only ones who can be) and the criterion
for our own life is in this free decision for truth—this decision
that can make the absolute turning point to where we move towards
God out of freedom.
When we supposed—as we did up to Kant—that the cosmos
was there, that the eternal ideas were there and that man moved
according to those eternal ideas, the task of philosophy could only
be to discover how the eternal ideas moved the cosmos and how everything
in the cosmos was meaningful—which meant that the basic method
of philosophy could only be contemplative. But all that changed
the moment we saw with Kant that we could never make such an assumption
as the cosmos and that the eternal ideas were only the awareness
of the possibility of eternity itself and were only real, only there
in the human mind itself and nowhere else. With that philosophy
left, and had to leave, the contemplative, becoming instead creative
in the active sense—and becoming the only possibility to bring
us real freedom and pure faith.
With philosophy—free philosophy, pure philosophy—we
can make the decision for freedom and take upon ourselves the responsibility
for the creation of a meaningful cosmos; and if we do not make that
decision and if we do not succeed in establishing those principles
(freedom, truth, reason, justice, love) first more and more in ourselves,
then among ourselves, then in a community, if we do not take in
chains of occurrences and transform them into lines of events, reorganizing
the earth (which in that sense is not given but only given as a
possibility) and creating step by step a meaningful cosmos out of
all that is given, if we do not do all that, we cannot live in freedom
and absolute responsibility (and both are identical)—and we
do not gain the possibility of pure faith. Faith would still require
a jump, but the jump from knowing and making meaning into faith
would become easier and easier because the possibility and finally
the probability of God would grow with every step we take away from
always moving under conditions we have not made ourselves and with
every step we take towards making life more meaningful. The richer
life becomes, the more probable becomes the existence of a creator;
the more we become aware of our being creative creatures who can
use our own creativeness, the more we become aware of the probability
of a creator because we know that we are after all only creative
creatures and not creators who can create the physical or ourselves.
Jaspers in an existential, psychological way has gotten hold of
this a little bit in his insight that man must become aware that
he has been given to himself in his freedom. As such, man has been
given to himself, and this is the only point where the philosophy
of Jaspers is immediately relatable to the point I make—enough
so at least to make a contact. Jaspers almost comes into the open
here, into freedom itself; otherwise, he goes back and remains within
the contemplative—and he goes back to the contemplative with
a purpose. Although he is an existentialist and as such took over
the nihilistic proposition of false activity, he has avoided the
full consequences of this position (and here Jaspers’ position
towards God has helped him)—the consequences that come from
taking a philosophical proposition out of the mere existence of
man and which lead (as in Sartre and the young Heidegger) finally
to mere activity for the sake of activity, to activity at any price,
to activity not metaphysical or in freedom but merely hysterical,
merely psychological—and goes in a way back to Kant and Kant’s
position that we must believe in God or our reason will not function
reasonably, so to speak.
But in avoiding the one consequence of the nihilistic position,
he is brought to a point where he cannot make a distinction between
becoming and the physical process of change that can never become
a process of becoming if we do not interfere. He does feel that
we have the possibility of transcendence, but with Jaspers it is
not active, it does not mean to move in freedom and to change change
into becoming. He goes rather to the position of bringing men back
to religion in order to install human beings better in the cosmos
so they can live on as children of the cosmos and God, showing them
that they can live that way and can get inner satisfaction from
it, showing them that God must be there (though without ever finding
out about it or doing anything about it).
Heidegger too—having become critical of this hysterical activism
(or as Sartre says “to engage”), of this nihilistic
proposition of activity for the sake of activity—tries to
overcome nihilism in the same way as Jaspers: by going back to the
contemplative. Heidegger supposes that some kind of over-all being
is there in a cosmos that contains man, and though in a much more
magical way than even before, his position is really in the Greek
sense of cosmos with man contained in it. I dare to predict that
this way is not possible because it leads back to the old propositions
and cannot establish freedom. Heidegger leaves the term freedom
out of his new philosophy; Jaspers does not. Jaspers can use freedom
because he takes the position that there is the act of a small freedom
of choice left to us: we have the inner freedom of transcendence—which
here means the same as the Buddhistic proposition of mere psychological
freedom. It might be of use to the individual, but it is of no use
to the next fellow and it it of no use for the world. Jaspers does
develop a theory of communication where the conveyance of inner
freedom to a beloved one becomes possible—but here it stops.
From this certainly cannot come the communication that creates a
human community. But I think that we must have a proposition of
freedom that other men can share, that in the end is of use for
the world—a really active creative freedom and not Jaspers’
kind of freedom that is only good for the individual.
And now we come to the point where we have to relate this proposition
of freedom to the question of death. As long as we believed either
in the cosmos (as the Greeks did) or in God (as the Jews and Christians
did) we were placed in a position where only the contemplative approach
could be made—which meant that the toughest problem to solve
was the idea of death. We tried either to overcome it as the Christians
did (by the hereafter), or as the Hebrews did (you have the means
to overcome the fact you die by being able through your own suffereing
and death to provide the happiness of your children and so go on
in eternity), or as the Greeks did with their theory (the best of
all of them) that life itself is a proposition to teach man how
to die. In contemplative thinking the position towards death is
always one of learning how to die. Jaspers too—returning to
the contemplative line—believes that philosophy is there in
order to teach men to learn how to die (as the Greeks and Romans
thought too) and to the other existentialists, including Sartre
and Camus, the question of death is still the decisive question
of philosophy. Camus in fact is quite desperate about it, feeling
that it is unjust that we have to die, that it makes us live in
absurdity, that it makes everything meaningless, and claims in the
Greek way immortality for man. Camus feels that men can only become
tragic heroes—living up to the terrible task, strengthening
themselves against it.
All this hangs together with contemplative thinking itself. If
man has only the contemplative task, then by no means is he able
to see why he should die. He could as well be immortal as the Greeks
thought of their Gods—living on in the world. But if we look
at the question of death and immortality from the point of view
of freedom and responsibility—which means among other things
from the point of view of a definite task—then they take on
an entirely different light. If we start with freedom only) and
with the possible creativeness of the human being) and from that
look at the images man has created of eternal life, we find that
with the exception to a certain degree of the Christian image of
the hereafter (which had the intention at least to give the impression
of something absolutely different) immortality as mainly wished
for has had the immanent connotation of the Greek concept and the
Greek gods.
The Greek gods were immorta; they were supposed to be immortal
in any sense—immortal within the world not only in spirit
but in flesh too. But there is one funny thing about these gods
and their immortality—one thing that took Homer himself to
make them interesting at all. These so-called eternal beings who
are infinite in time lead a strange life: they are supposed to be
blessed beings, living in bliss, living in eternity-—ut they
cannot change a thing in the world; they cannot change, destroy
or create anything; they are entirely non-creative. They can do
nothing but enjoy themselves, so to speak. Life amounts to ambrosia
and nectar and little quarrels—and is without meaning. True,
their love life is very feww, but that too must become a terrible
bore because there is nothing creative in it either.
To really understand what this living on forever would mean, to
be able to measure this dream of humanity that wanted to live in
absolute happiness—and forever—is only possible if we
see it from the point of view of creativity. To be able to conceive
of God as a creator—as the God-Creator was conceived by Abraham—means
that He has to be conceived of at the same time as a person who
is timeless, really eternal, not just a being endless in time and
immanent. The Abrahamidic God, the God-Creator, is eternal, but
not immortal because the question of death does not come up, but
the minute we try to relate the so-called immortal soul to God we
are back in immortality in time. Human beings can only conceive
of living in time, and when we try to conceive of immortality we
end up—as in the Christian heaven—not with the eternal
but the infinite. The Christian heaven really means that everyone
would be a Greek god—and this makes for the boredom of the
Christian heaven.
This brings us to the question of whether the creativeness of creative
creatures (we are not talking now about the creativeness of the
Creator since God Himself is of an entirely different quality) is
not perhaps bound to death? That means: could we be creative creatures
without dying? could we be free if we did not die? From that point
of view it becomes clear that we could not be; it becomes quite
clear that we, as immortal human beings on earth, could not be creative
because to non-dying beings no transcendental quality could apply
and without transcendence there is no possibility of creativity.
To be able to think beyond ourselves—which is what transcendence
really means—makes us creative. If we were immortal, if we
were not limited, we could not transcend ourselves—there would
be no need for it. We as immortal beings, being perfect, would have
to consider ourselves as perfect and would have no possibility of
longing after perfection—and without this there could be no
possibility of creativity or transcendence and we would be like
the Greek gods: only able to enjoy ourselves (whatever that might
be) with no possibility of being able to create meaning (what is
perfect cannot ask for meaning).
If in the animal world animals would suddenly become immortal,
nothing in their metaphysical quality would be changed by this.
Since they are not aware of death anyhow, they would just live on
forever in their own circular movement within the larger circular
movement of nature much as they live now within the movement of
nature. But since we not only die but know it, immortality for us
would change our very metaphysical quality as human beings. If we
would not die and would go on forever in a circular movement, it
would change our very quality into conscious animals—conscious
of ourselves as animals, enjoying perhaps how we lived, but without
the quality of being human—without creativity or transcendence.
Creativity and the quality of transcendence are bound to death.
Every possibility of creativity that we have is bound to the fact
that we have to die—and know it. This by giving us the possibility
to have time and not to be in time means to be able to relate time
lived by us to something absolute (to the eternal)—and this
makes us creative.
So id we conceive of life to be what we can make out of existence,
then the very condition of making a life (living in life and not
in existence) is that we die. We have seen—since no change
in quality is involved—that there is no metaphysical “must”
that animals must die; with us there is. If we could ask God for
immortality, for eternal life in time, He could say to us: “So,
you want to give up freedom, transcendence, creativeness and life
in order to exist forever—because that is the condition or
you must be God.” We suppose God to be absolutely different
from both the world and us and only in Him can we dimly conceive
of a being to whom death is not the precondition for creativeness
(which is one of the deepest reasons why we cannot have an image
of God).
So death is something we do not have to love or hate; it is something
we have merely to accept because we know that without it, we could
not live and could not be human beings. Death is not a sorry fact
but the luckiest fact because it enables us to be transcendent and
to become ourselves. Therefore, the task for philosophy, as far
as the individual is concerned, is not to teach him how to die,
but for him with the help of philosophy to learn how to live because
he dies: that means how to make a life out of an existence, to transform
things and beings into meaning and to bring them into life in that
sense—which is the root of man’s creativeness and is
only possible because he dies.
So for my meaning—thought it is not in the way he meant—Pascal’s
saying, “Man is greater than anything else because he knows
that he dies,” is true. Pascal, following Greek and Christian
thought, had quite a different purpose in mind (he wanted to show
that man could not live without God), but even so this saying is
true because the condition for man’s greatness is just that
he knows he dies. But it is not, as Pascal thought, his misery—on
the contrary: it is his glory. His misery is that he is able to
willingly make the decision for—or is able unwillingly to
fall into—the demonic and to fall prey to it (thought even
then he can through metaphysical suffering be made creative again).
His suffering—even though he is bound to physical suffering
and to the fradual decline of his body and physical powers—is
not due to the fact that he dies. Human misery and man’s suffering
on this earth are not caused by the fact he dies, but because others—the
ones he loves—die. This, however, he can control by becoming
aware that the one he loved died because he had to die if he were
to live. Death is not the reward for sin or the misery of human
beings or the absurd; death is the condition for the greatness of
man.
In that sense we see that an entirely different view comes into
sight the moment we decide philosophically for freedom, the moment
we decide to make freedom. This metaphysical proposition—the
only one from which we can start to move creatively—became
an inherent part of all philosophy, though never openly so, the
moment philosophy tried to distinguish itself from religion and
to move not from goodness but from truth first. Eventually, by striving
for truth first regardless of what happened to happiness or goodness,
philosophy was led to the very border of the proposition of freedom
and to the awareness that what it was striving for was the basic
proposition of freedom, and from that point philosophy was able
finally to free itself entirely from all the old concepts of being
and to break through into the concept of freedom itself.
Philosophy was able to find its way by truth to freedom because
truth and freedom are identical in the sense that truth can only
be established in freedom, along with reason, justice, love, etc.
By putting freedom as a main starting concern for human beings we
find that all the other creative principles of man—truth,
reason, justice, love—come into a new relationship and we
find more and more possibilities opening up before us until at last,
having established those principles and possibilities more and more
in full freedom and responsibility by ourselves, we find still one
more possibility: we find that to move in freedom means also to
move towards faith—to go a way where we can approach the possibility
and finally the probability of the reality of God (God as Creator)
by becoming more and more creative ourselves. By enhancing our own
possibilities of creation in freedom—and only by this way—we
become more and more aware of the probability of God as a Creator
of creative creatures.
We can know about God, if He exists, only in one way: we can gain
negative knowledge, not in the negative way of negative theology
or perhaps not even in a negative way at all but rather in an indirect
way—and indirectness that moves by the directness of our own
creativeness indicating indirectly the possibility of a Creator.
What becomes possible is a kind of free mystical thinking—thinking
about the unknown (God). This is gaining real knowledge about God—gaining
knowledge how He might exist, if He exists (never certainty that
He exists), and at the same time becoming more and more aware of
the ever-growing probability of God. We do not know whether God
exists or not, but we do know that if God does exist the old believed
relation of human metaphysical creative principles (freedom, truth,
reason, justice, beauty, goodness, love) to God (when they were
supposed to be eternal ideas and were related to God as qualities
of God) must be true—for if God exists, those principles must
be to fullness and perfection in God because God is the absolute
Creator. So this old relation made in philosophy by Plato is again
proved to be true in a deeper way than Plato thought.
We see once again that philosophy in all its forms—from the
long period of metaphysics, through the time of turning against
itself in the nihilistic situation, to now when a new philosophy
seems possible which moves in the other direction, starting from
freedom—still builds one body of creation of the human mind
with everything realting each to the other. The slightest thing
in philosophy accomplished anew will lighten up a proposition in
Kant, Augustine, or Plato and will show that it was already there
as a germ of thought—just as my proposition concerning those
human creative principles of man throws light back on what was already
true in Plato’s proposition. There is, it seems, an eternal
implication to the human mind and its capability to build one body
of creative thought with all the endless relations and interrelations
possible, as it has done in myth, philosophy or art, and there is
one curious fact that becomes apparent about these creations of
the human mind that are so closely related to being. The human mind—being
transcendent with an original relation to being—can never
be entirely wrong as to being (which in science on the contrary
is possible).
In philosophy there has not been a single philosophical proposition
(so long as it has quality) that has been entirely wrong—any
more than any real work of art can help to a certain degree being
beautiful. And just as this is true of philosophy and art, so it
is true of religious thinking. There is not a single creative thought
in religious thinking not worthwhile to be considered again in the
light of each new insight and which will not always reveal again
the quality of the human being as to thinking. (We suddenly find
from the idea of the trinity, for example, what a deep quality is
involved there that can still teach us about our own qualities.)
Nothing in metaphysical thinking up to Kant can be absolutely lost
or even rejected. We have to step on the shoulders of past thinking
and know that it belongs to the fundaments of human thinking—which
means there is a whole body of thought that has to be kept in mind.
We have seen that from now on it is necessary to make the decision
to become philosophical human beings—which does not mean that
everyone has to know the whole body of philosophical thought, but
each of us has to know one thing: we cannot reject anything. And,
as a matter of fact, we will find that the more we become philosophical
men (or women), the more we will want to know the old thought—which
can be done in the way of preference once we have become acquainted
a little bit with the three pillars, so to speak, of philosophical
thought: Socrates as rendered by Plato, then Plato himself; St.
Augustine (who brought together the concept of reason of the Greeks
and the concept of time and will of Hebrew-Christian thought); and
Kant (representing pure philosophical thought slowly coming into
its own). By starting with those three, reading some of their texts
always, we will gain the opportunity to come to others too and will
know by and by the main positions and main development of human
thought and will be able to philosophize with Plato and Kant. We
will be able, each of us, to engage in a dialogue (which is the
main thing for people who want to become philosophical human beings
to learn—just that ability to engage in dialogues). For this
plato is the best beginning. His dialogues, being written as such,
give us an opportunity to move in on or to join, so to speak, those
dialogues—giving us the opportunity to bring in our own experiences
and to check on those propositions and thus making it possible for
us also to become creative philosophically.
This is a question we will talk more about in the last session,
trying to find a few hints on how each of us can relate our own
main creative concern in another field—be it art, science,
or the concern of human life itself (the housewife can be creative
too)—to that center of all creative human capabilities, philosophy,
and how we can learn to get out of philosophy a strength and direction
in order to come by and by to a position where we feel again like
real human beings. That is what we all have to try to do; we all
have to try to keep our minds in a working balance by first gaining
an insight into all of our possibilities as human beings—learning
to know what those different possibilities and capabilities are—and
then through this to regain one most valuable thing we lost along
with religion: respect.
With the loss of religion and with is religious respect, we lost
respect for everything including human beings and their possibilities
and capabilities (and with our loss of respect for human beings
we lost, of course, respect for ourselves—and with self-respect,
we lost self-confidence)—and just in this question of respect
we find the kernel of the nihilistic situation. To regain respect—respect
for human beings themselves and their capabilities, respect for
ourselves, others and for life itself—is essential for either
we regain this respect ourselves by re-establishing it in freedom
or we face the other two alternatives: either to go back to religion
where we are forced at least to have respect for God or to submit
to the nihilistic situation, moving and being moved the way we are
supposed to move and be moved—finally by demoniacal movement
where we do not need respect (totalitarian powers can makes themselves
respected by terror). To regain respect—respect itself first
and then self-respect—is not just a matter of wanting to once
we have lost entirely respect for others and life. There is only
one way: the way of philosophy and freedom by decision and responsibility,
finding our for ourselves why and what there really is to respect.
(To regain, for example, enough respect for art in order to be able
to look at a work of art for half an hour without already having
an opinion and wanting to write a criticism means to learn to understand
what a work of art really is and what art can or cannot do for human
beings—which only philosophy can tell us.)
To make ourselves strong against all the dangers of the nihilistic
situation, to become critical enough to avoid falling prey to all
the ideologies and demoniacal movements that surround us and to
destroy the possibility of creating new ones, to avoid that final
and inevitable consequence of the nihilistic situation, totalitarianism
(with its murder on principle), means to make the decision to move
in freedom and responsibility—to go the way of free philosophy—and
that is the only way we can do it. Even religion, since it requires
a certain closed system of thinking, encloses an ideology itself
and in the end can be of no help against totalitarianism.
So once again we are brought back to this decision that finally
has to be made by everyone: the individual decision against nihilism
and its automatic performances and the decision for freedom. The
more consciously it is made, of course, the better and technically
this is possible. If each of you would decide to read Plato, Augustine
and Kant each Sunday for two or three years—finding only a
little time perhaps but steadily week after week—I think that
I could guarantee that you will have found that philosophy is a
good ideology killer, that it strengthens you not to fall prey to
ideas that claim to be absolute, and that you will be able to criticize
any closed system of thought presented to you, criticize it and
laugh it off—because once you have made the decision for philosophy,
and thus for freedom, and have tried even in such a leisurely way
as this one I propose to keep in constant touch with it, by having
become considerably more of a free person you will also have become
increasingly critical of everything that moves against freedom—learning
first how to recognize it and then finally how to fight it.
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