The World (n.) is made not only of living individuals but of holes of individuality: negative persons, a kernel of feeling that persists as a symbol.
The World (n.) is, for Fichte, a sparring partner: the Self sets up what resists it in order to have a fight to win.
The World (n.) first appears to a living thing as a slope: a direction of pull, with the creature standing at its midpoint.
The World (n.) is merely what the individual was parted from: before individuation, the two were one undivided ensemble.
The World (n.) is a theater in which every man plays a role of his own, and morality is choosing whom to imitate: Hercules or Diogenes.
The World (n.) at first is not a place but a slope — a direction the creature feels itself in the middle of.