Ask yourself whether our language is complete--whether it was so before the symbolism of chemistry and the notation of the infinitesimal calculus were incorporated in it; for these are, so to speak, suburbs of our language. (And how many houses or streets does it take before a town begins to be a town?) Our language can be seen as an ancient city: a maze of little streets and squares, of old and new houses, and of houses with additions from various periods; and this surrounded by a multitude of new boroughs with straight regular streets and uniform houses.

When you are philosophizing you have to descend into primeval chaos and feel at home there.

Every sign by itself seems dead. What gives it life?--In use it is alive. Is life breathed into it there?--Or is the use its life?

You can't think decently if you're not willing to hurt yourself

In the world everything is as it is and happens as it does happen. In it, there is no value, - and if there were, it would be of no value.

There is not a philosophical method, though there are indeed methods, like different therapies.

If, for example, you were to think more deeply about death, then it would be truly strange if, in so doing, you did not encounter new images.