Being (n.) and nothing are as inseparable in nature as back and front, however apart the two words stand.
Being (n.) and nonbeing are correlatives, not alternatives: "to be or not to be" is not the question, since pure versions of each are ghosts.
Being (n.) was assumed by early theology to be static, so what moved only half-existed; but being and motion, mass and energy, are inseparable.
Being (n.) means nothing without non-being; both are abstractions from such simple experiences as a penny in the right hand and none in the left.
Being (n.) is relative to nonbeing: "to be or not to be" is not the question at all — to be is not to be.
Being (n.) cannot be boring to a creature with jewels for eyes, enchanted instruments for ears and a fabulous arabesque of nerves for a brain — this incarnation of all eternity.
Being (n.) is a circular riddle: "what is being?" is at bottom the same question as "what am I?"