“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Now for many reasons your success, both yours and Ruburt’s, will come later in your lives than those who achieve it in their young adult years. [...]

[...] I transmit information to Seth, who then interprets it for Ruburt. [...]

[...] Now, I will cease, and whether or not I shall speak again this evening, who of you knows? [...]

(I didn’t know who would be speaking tonight. [...]

[...] Then again it had better be legitimate, since it was obvious he was being interviewed as a psychic who wrote, rather than as a writer with psychic abilities.

Such an experiment will not carry you too far, however, and the probable self who has chosen the action that you denied, is in important respects quite different from the self that you know. [...]

Nor is it any accident that those certain people come to the sessions, the ones who did come, just as it is no accident that Philip's mother is also a bed-ridden arthritic, just as Ruburt’s mother is.

(Philip, of course, is the entity name for John Bradley, of Williamsport, PA, who has witnessed several sessions.

[...] There are those who do not even as yet “enjoy their creaturehood,” thinking it beneath them while still being unable to reach through and beyond it.

[...] He kept his channels to energy open, therefore the energy flowed through his work freely, and in a short period of time he could produce a painting that might take years for another as gifted to produce, who husbanded his talent as a miser.

[...] He has two children and lives in Nebraska, and oddly enough he is a house painter who also wanted to be an artist. [...]

[...] She sought protection from her present husband, who is in a position to give it.

[...] The male nurse who assisted Jane got her on the litter backward, Jane said. [...]

(Next, Jane said she was trying to find a radio and recorder here at our hill house in Elmira so that Sue Watkins, who lives an hour’s drive to the north, could borrow it. [...]

[...] She’d been terrified holding sessions, way back in the beginning, for the woman in Louisiana who had MS. [...]

(Another smile.) This is something like the fox he read of, who to get rid of fleas carries something like a ball of wool in his mouth and walks into the water, forcing the lice out further and further. [...]

[...] The therapist in hydro this morning, who’d examined her last week, literally gasped when she examined the ulcer on each thigh: “I don’t believe this.” [...]

[...] In the emergency room downstairs I’d met Peg Lyon, who also talked about 458—just as I’d started wondering about what the situation there was these days. [...]

[...] You both felt that since you were the one who had the part-time job, Ruburt would accept the physical symptoms of your predicament, and you felt this was just.

[...] Everyone in this apartment house is seldom in a bad mood at the same time, for example, so to some extent in periods of normal depression you are sustained by others, close by, who are not.

[...] I did not recall the card the ribbon came from, nor why I had removed it—if I was the one who had done so. [...]

[...] And a distant connection with two boys who seem to have been around, or connected with, the two people in some way when the photo was taken.

[...] And who knows what the hell will happen to us for the rest of our lives? [...]

[...] She wants me to call Dr. Kardon to come to the house to examine Jane, saying we owe it to Dr. K., who couldn’t know the extent of Jane’s symptoms these days. [...]

[...] Each patient is supposed to have one, according to NY State inspectors who are at the hospital this week. [...]