Ludwig Wittgenstein Quotes

According to my wife, my use of vocabulary is wide and varied.

I have always, always loved words.

I'm a real big fan of words.

All people in the world - who are not hermits or mutes - speak words. They speak different languages, but they speak words. They say, "How are you" or "I'm not feeling well" all over the world. These common words - these common elements that we have between us - the writer has to take some verbs and nouns and pronouns and adjectives and adverbs and arrange them in a way that sound fresh.

You can say anything you want, yessir, but it's the words that sing, they soar and descend...I bow to them...I love them, I cling to them, I run them down, I bite into them, I melt them down...I love words so much...The unexpected ones...The ones I wait for greedily or stalk until, suddenly, they drop.

Words are what created our world. Words are what keep it going.

I never knew words could be so confusing," Milo said to Tock as he bent down to scratch the dog's ear. "Only when you use a lot to say a little," answered Tock. Milo thought this was quite the wisest thing he'd heard all day.

Words bounce. Words, if you let them, will do what they want to do and what they have to do.

Language. By this we build pyramids, fight battles, ordain and administer laws, shape and teach religion, and knit man to man, cultivate each other, and ourselves.

Words," he said, "is oh such a twitch-tickling problem to me all my life.

Whatever one wishes to say, there is one noun only by which to express it, one verb only to give it life, one adjective only which will describe it. One must search until one has discovered them, this noun, this verb, this adjective, and never rest content with approximations, never resort to trickery, however happy, or to vulgarism, in order to dodge the difficulty.

Real thinking is possible only in the light of genuine language, no matter how limited, how primitive.

One word is worth a thousand pictures. If it's the right word.

Words, words. They're all we have to go on.

The tongue of man is a twisty thing, there are plenty of words there of every kind.

The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this.

We live and breathe words.

A word is no light matter. Words have with truth been called fossil poetry, each, that is, a symbol of a creative thought.

Words! Mere words! How terrible they were! How clear, and vivid, and cruel! One could not escape from them. And yet what a subtle magic there was in them! They seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, and to have a music of their own as sweet as that of viol or of lute. Mere words! Was there anything so real as words?

Thanks to words, we have been able to rise above the brutes; and thanks to words, we have often sunk to the level of the demons.

The boy spoke two words, the first a short guttural verb, the second “you.

Words! Mere words! How terrible they were! How clear, and vivid, and cruel! One could not escape from them. And yet what a subtle magic there was in them!

The key to all knowledge comes in words of just one syllable, apparently.... There's only the last page left to write on. I'll fill it with words of just one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.