Ludwig Wittgenstein

Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.

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

The world is all that is the case.

A picture held us captive. And we could not get outside it, for it lay in our language and language seemed to repeat it to us inexorably.

Philosophy is a battle against the bewitchment of our intelligence by means of language.

What is your aim in philosophy? To show the fly the way out of the fly-bottle.

The meaning of a word is its use in the language.

If a lion could talk, we could not understand him.

To imagine a language is to imagine a form of life.

Don't think, but look!

The solution of the problem of life is seen in the vanishing of this problem.

The world is independent of my will.

The limits of the world are also my limits.

My propositions are elucidatory in this way: he who understands me finally recognizes them as senseless, when he has climbed out through them, on them, over them. (He must so to speak throw away the ladder after he has climbed up on it.)

What we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence.

The philosopher's treatment of a question is like the treatment of an illness.

Language is a labyrinth of paths. You approach from one side and know your way about; you approach the same place from another side and no longer know your way about.

The problems arising through a misinterpretation of our forms of language have the character of depth. They are deep disquietudes; their roots are as deep in us as the forms of our language and their significance is as great as the importance of our language.

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.)

Meaning is not a mental accompaniment to a word; it is the role the word plays in a language-game.