Matter (n.) is as much of an error as the God of the Eleatics: there are no eternally enduring substances.
Matter (n.) like mechanism is only the lowest stage of will to power, the most despiritualized form of affect.
Matter (n.) is the last piece of earth that "stood fast" — and Boscovich taught us to abjure it, the greatest triumph over the senses yet.
Matter (n.) might be a more primitive form of the world of affects, a pre-form of life in which everything still lies in a powerful unity.
Matter (n.) no longer exists after Boscovitch — except as a source of popular relief: force is all there is, and the physicist who still believes in solid atoms ends up needing God.
Matter (n.) is the similarity on which all change depended for Anaxagoras, insofar as the substances partake of it, and not their differences, a logical error inherent in his presuppositions.
Matter (n.) in the inorganic world is the greatest synthesis of forces and so the most worthy of reverence — all organic life is specialisation, and in the inorganic there is no error, no narrowness of perspective.