What is that?
It's a man!
- What is he, dead?|- No, sir. He's writing!
He's writing, sir.
He's writing in a notebook!
That man was not mad.|He was working
The contents of that notebook|were too important
to write it down later.
He had to do it|when his mind dictated,
he couldn't put it off|a single second.
and running, like any other man|would have done?
That soldier was called|Ludwig Wittgenstein,
the man who set the limits|on our thoughts.
was the following:
Can we know the truth?
All the great thinkers|throughout history
something which|no one can refute,
like "two and two make four".
In order to find that truth,
Wittgenstein used, in fact,
mathematical logic. What better|means of obtaining a certainty
with impeccable method,|until he reached
a terrifying conclusion.
There is no such truth
outside of mathematics.
There is no way of finding
an irrefutable argument
Philosophy,|therefore, is dead.
Because "Whereof we cannot speak,
thereof we must be silent."
Don't touch that, please.
This is an Enigma machine!
Sorry to sneak in like that...|The door was open.
and let you in|on these legs, did you?
Martin, our new overseas|student lodger, I presume.
- This man in the photo with you...|- Yes.
That's Turing, Alan Turing,
the man who deciphered|the Enigma code.
Thanks to him, we won the war.
Poor man died|such a strange death...
a poisoned apple, like Snow White.
And the one on the left?
My husband, Harry.
to politicians.|Politicians or anybody.
He never had many friends.
He had one at least.|Arthur Seldom.
Poor boy. He spent day
after day in the house,|tidying Harry's papers.
- wasn't it?|- I see you've done your homework.
In fact, Mrs. Eagleton,|it's because of him that I'm here.
In Oxford, I mean.
I know what you mean.|Seldom is... unique.
Every prize,|every acknowledgement
he's received over the years|has been a real joy for me.
Careful, mother, or|your secret will be discovered.
How dare you!|That's not true.
There's no doubt|Professor Seldom is a genius,
Beth, darling, couldn't you stop|being so spiteful just for a second?
Thank you, mother, for tarring me|with the same brush.
Ah, our overseas student.
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"The Oxford Murders" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 9 Apr. 2020. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_oxford_murders_15460>.