An Object (n.) is an object only insofar as it can be moved away from me. Its presence is such that it entails a possible absence.
An Object (n.) is not an ideal unity in the possession ofthe intellect, like a geometrical notion for example... it is rather a totality open to a horizon of indefinite number of perspectival views which blend with one another according to a given style.
Object (n.) holds together by foreshadowing an order about to spring on us — an answer to questions the landscape only hinted at as a vague unease.
An Object (n.) is an organism of colours, smells, sounds and textures that answer and modify one another by a logic of their own, which science is far from having worked out.
The Object (n.) is the mirror of all the others: I see the back of my lamp as the face it shows to the chimney and the walls.
An Object (n.) is an object only because it can move away from me and vanish from sight: its presence always carries a possible absence.