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. Unless that fact
has at some time struck him.—And this means: we fail to be struck
by what, once seen, is most striking and most powerful.
But if you say: “How am I to know what he means, when I see nothing but the signs he gives?”
then I say: “How is he to know what he means, when he has nothing but the signs either?”
I should have liked to produce a good book. This has not come
about, but the time is past in which I could improve it.
For how can I go so far as to try to use language to get between pain and its expression?