298 definitions
The book's index
Remarks on the Philosophy of Psychology, Volume I
186 concepts · 298 definitions
- accuracy1
- aesthetics1
- alchemy1
- anger1
- anxiety1
- ape1
- arithmetic2
- aroma1
- aspect12
- association1
- atmosphere1
- attitude2
- belief8
- believing1
- biography1
- check1
- church modes1
- color1
- color wheel1
- conditional1
- consciousness2
- contradiction2
- conviction2
- Corona1
- counting1
- cubism1
- custom1
- date1
- dependence1
- depression1
- depth2
- description2
- designation1
- desire1
- disgust1
- dog1
- doodling2
- double entendre1
- doubt1
- dowsing1
- drawing1
- dream3
- duck-rabbit1
- earworm1
- eerie1
- effort1
- emotion1
- essence1
- experience3
- facade1
- face3
- facial expression2
- familiarity2
- family resemblance1
- fear1
- feeling1
- fiction1
- first person1
- forgiveness1
- fright1
- furniture1
An Aspect (n.) summoned by thought is like the inarticulate reverberation of a thought.
An Aspect (n.) is seeing something into a picture that is not in the figure at all.
An Aspect (n.) is subject to the will: see it as... makes sense where see it red does not — so an aspect teaches nothing about the world.
An Aspect (n.) is like a new garment put on a figure again and again, each garment the same: I clothe the figure with the interpretation.
Belief (n.) that gravity holds, held all along, is used like knowing; believing all along that I heard a whisper involves listening, doubt, surmise.
Belief (n.) is tested not by looking inward but perhaps by asking how much I would bet.
Belief (n.) trusted because I am reliable — I believe it, therefore I believe it.
Belief (n.) is read off from observing another; I do not say 'I believe' from observing myself.
Thinking (n.) carries the eggshell of its origin: it shows what you struggled with growing up, which views of your circle you had to break free of.
Thinking (n.) done silently is a gift of nature like talking inaudibly; yet if everyone else were deaf, my speaking would be just as hidden.
Thinking (n.) requires so many things of a man before we will say he thinks.
Thinking (n.) poses a question: does the cat waiting by the mouse-hole think about the mouse, or the robber in ambush about his victim?
Meaning (n.) is learnt by letting the use teach it to you.
Meaning (n.) someone — he is an ass — is not tied to any experience during the words; I say I meant him, and that is how I go on.
Meaning (n.) heard in a word — bank as money — is like a germ of meaning experienced and then interpreted.
Meaning (n.) a word is often pictured as a remembered depth or resonance — perhaps an illusion, like feeling one's thinking in one's head.
Grief (n.) makes the whole world look grey — but a grey world before my mind would be the cause of grief, not grief itself.
Grief (n.) rehearses its sad thoughts incessantly.
Grief (n.) felt deeply for one second sounds queer — not merely because it rarely happens.
Grief (n.) is not composed of feelings the way granite is of feldspar, mica and quartz.
Philosophy (n.) can condense a whole cloud into a droplet of grammar.
Philosophy (n.) is like travelling a landscape to make a map: one must know not only the right road but where each wrong turning leads.
Philosophy (n.) often solves a problem merely by saying there is no more difficulty here than there — isn't that just as remarkable?
Philosophy (n.) is not natural science, nor natural history; we even invent facts of natural history for our own purposes.
Psychology (n.) is hardest when it means not explaining but accepting the psychological phenomenon.
Psychology (n.) is confused not because it is young, like early physics, but like set theory: experimental method beside conceptual confusion.
Psychology (n.) becomes the theory of an inner thing because indisputable first-person utterances suggest something seen within that others cannot see.
Psychology (n.) reports behaviour; but he seemed tired or his face changed to sadness describe more than any measurable change could.
Hope (n.) is easy to deny an orang-utan, though we can readily imagine one angry.
Hope (n.) and fear count as emotions because their expression runs parallel to behaviour, as belief's does not.
Hope (n.) has two presents: the exclamation I hope he comes, and the report I keep on hoping — said while shaking my head at myself.
Hope (n.) is directed to the future — is there the same feeling aimed at the present or past, the same mental movement with a different object?
Intention (n.) is not always clear: I say it will happen all right, half because I believe it, half to comfort the others.
Intention (n.) voiced as I intend is never a description, though a description can sometimes be derived from it.
Intention (n.) is not experienced when I take the jug and go to meet the milkman, any more than I try to walk in order to walk.
An Intention (n.) such as drinking my coffee need not show as any accompaniment of making it; 'yes, of course' is how I react.
Understanding (n.) announced as now I understand is a signal, not a description.
Understanding (n.) a sentence about the bank needs no special inner event; such experiences get covered up by the practice of the language-game.
Understanding (n.) is an ability, like knowing how to go on, but I understand is an utterance, a signal.
Understanding (n.) is just not used like a word for a sensation.