The Ground (n.) is hard to recognise as ground: it keeps giving the illusion of a greater depth, and digging only lands us on the old level.
Ground (n.) is neither true nor false, if the true is what is grounded.
Ground (n.) that tells for something is not anything I decide.
Ground (n.) for how I use words I could give a thousand of — but none as certain as the very thing they were supposed to ground.
Ground (n.) adduced only because we hold it to be a ground is, in the end, to say nothing at all.
The Ground (n.) for expecting the future is simply what we call a statement about the past — and if this game surprises you, consider that a burnt child fears the fire.
Ground (n.) is good when it meets a standard of good grounds — but the standard has no grounds.