An Organism (n.) lives only as a self-reproducing process, never as a merely existing thing.
The Organism (n.) is a being that maintains itself in its relation to another, where the inorganic thing is lost when it enters the process.
The Organism (n.) does not produce something but only preserves itself; what is produced is as much already present as produced.
The Organism (n.) exists not in an anatomical system but as a movement running through the parts — in which alone the anatomical parts have any meaning.
An Organism (n.) is where each member preserves the others by preserving itself; in a mechanism each part produces only itself and the whole falls into desolation.
An Organism (n.) feeds on itself: it turns its own members into inorganic nature and means, each member at once the end and the means of the others.
Organism (n.) is not a mere being: it only is in making itself what it is — an end that comes first yet is only a result.
The Organism (n.) is not even a machine if its acts are taken singly — a machine at least has a purpose; the organism's activity returns into itself, turned back by nothing alien.
An Organism (n.) has one life in every part, and any part separated from it is dead — the stomach asserts independence, yet is sacrificed in becoming a member of one whole.
Organism (n.) is a standing intention toward its own realization: every organ is a means to its life and also part of the end, always realized and always being realized.