Instinct (n.) is reason's asymptote: an animal can approach reason without reaching it, as reason approaches a higher mind.
Instinct (n.) is the felt voice of the body's insides: a newborn sucks because organs impress it from within.
An Instinct (n.) is an eddy in the river of life: it still belongs to the current but goes round and round while the rush continues.
Instinct (n.) could be read as Descartes read ideas: a quality in us too great for us to have made, the mark of something above the individual.
An Instinct (n.) can run with nobody there to receive it: if the urge is strong enough, no stimulus at all is needed for the program to unroll.
Instinct (n.) is the usual reason given for denying that an animal invents; Simondon replies that where options are few, a shared behavior may be many separate inventions that converged.
An Instinct (n.) can be a perception that went off early: the image meant to sort possibilities is mistaken for a trigger, and the body leaps to the act.
Instinct (n.) looks more visible in animals than in us only because the observer is human: the motives behind human behavior are just harder for another human to spot, a difference of level, not nature.