The aspects of things that are most important for us are hidden because of their simplicity and familiarity. (One is unable to notice something because it is always before one’s eyes.) The real foundations of his enquiry do not strike a man at all

The limits of my language means the limits of my world.

Black seems to make a colour cloudy, but darkness doesn't. A ruby could thus keep getting darker without ever becoming cloudy; but if it became blackish red, it would become cloudy.

Only let's cut out the transcendental twaddle when the whole thing is as plain as a sock on the jaw.

Someone who knows too much finds it hard not to lie.

Is my understanding only blindness to my own lack of understanding? It often seems so to me.

The common behavior of mankind is the system of reference by means of which we interpret an unknown language.