The Plant (n.) does not attain being-for-self but merely touches the boundary-line of individuality.
A Plant (n.) transcends being a seed, as it transcends being blossom, fruit and leaf: its limits are stages it grows through.
A Plant (n.) lends itself to architecture because it is not yet an individual that feels, and already gives roof and shade against rain, sun, and wind.
A Plant (n.) is less one individual than a basis for many: as it grows it comes out of itself and falls into pieces as several individuals.
Plant (n.) grow out and unfold indefinitely but lack the return to themselves: they cannot gather their manifold growth into unity, having no inner differentiation, no entrails.
A Plant (n.) does not move from its place, because its self never separates out from its parts; it is not an individual that interrupts itself but a continually flowing self-nourishment.