Ground (n.) metamorphoses what it grounds — the grounded cannot remain what it was before it passed the test.
Ground (n.) is the plane of immanence buried in the depths of Nature instead of left to play on the surface — and then it can only be a principle of analogy.
Ground (n.) always has the same ambiguity: it represents itself in the circle it imposes on what it grounds, returning as one element in the circuit it was supposed to found.
Ground (n.) always bends, curves and recurves: it puts difference on a circle and hands out lots — in Plato the wheel of cycle and metempsychosis is a grounding lottery.
The Ground (n.) rises with the individual yet takes on no form or figure: it is there, staring at us, but without eyes — hugging determination as the ground does the shoe.
Ground (n.) has one shortcoming: it stays relative to what it grounds, borrows its traits and is proved by them — so it introduces movement into the soul rather than time into thought.
Ground (n.) is like the father in a triad — the Imparticipable, the Participated, the Participants: the father, the daughter and the suitor.
Ground (n.) grounds only the claims of those who come after — who but Courage is courageous? — and the prize claimed is difference, the fiancée: to have the daughter, one must resemble the father.