Ordinary language is all right.
One could divide humanity into two classes:
those who master a metaphor, and those who hold by a formula.
Those with a bent for both are too few, they do not comprise a class.
'Another technique, another procedure falling under these technologies of self, is the technique of withdrawal (retraite), for which there is a word, which as you know will have a prominent future in all of Western spirituality: anakhoresis (withdrawal or disengagement from the world). Withdrawal is understood in these archaic techniques of the self as a particular way of detaching yourself and absenting yourself from the world in which you happen to be, but doing so "on the spot": somehow breaking contact with the external world, no longer feeling sensations, no longer being disturbed by everything taking place around the self, acting as if you no longer see, and actually no longer seeing what is there before your eyes. It is, if you like, a technique of visible absence. You are always there, visible to the eyes of others. But you are absent, elsewhere'.
Philosophers spend more time imagining than they are ordinarily prepared to admit.
They call their imagining 'thinking'.
They learn how to think by learning how to imagine as other philosophers do.
They submit their imaginations to certain forms of discipline.
To some philosophers, you do philosophy better by finding ways to better discipline your imagination.
To others, you do philosophy better by proving that your imagination has not, so far, been completely disciplined.
Jonathan Lear's read on Wittgenstein as Beckett: 'philosophy both must and cannot be conducted transcendentally'.
(Later: 'Philosophy provides a means of coping with empirical exhaustion.')
'Da stieg ein Baum.'
'There's fifty books about Clifford the Big Red Dog… They all tell the exact same story: Look how big this dog is.'