“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] We don’t know of anyone in our personal circle who has recently died, for instance, or who is close to death as far as we can tell.)

[...] He was afraid of the cat, considering him wild and caged originally, as his mother had been in his interpretation, so he felt forced to help the cat (who did not have any love for him), as he felt before he had to help his mother—who would kill him if she had the chance.

[...] It contains a long article about a Philippine psychic surgeon who is being brought to this country next fall, when he is to operate on patients with surgeons and others as witnesses. The article goes into detail about the scientists who have watched the psychic surgeon operate at his home in the Philippines, and about the surgeon’s home and “operating room,” which is but a shack containing a crude wooden-slatted table. [...]

[...] Also perhaps some difficulty about neighbors who wouldn’t keep up their own land.

[...] I then felt my tiny friend, who by now seemed to be even smaller, buzzing and banging against my palms, trying to get out.

The original fear for your friend was a sympathetic fear of a patient, who was to be operated on. [...]

(Jane and I cannot say exactly who was at the table when it broke, although we know that neither of us was, nor was Curt Kent, who sat to one side drinking beer. [...]

(Carl had a brainstorm; we placed our bathroom scale on the tabletop finally when the pressure was “going good,” and requested A A to continue building up the pressure so that Carl, who was on the side of the table manifesting the pressure at that time, could measure the force he used to get the table back on the floor solidly. [...]

[...] Abruptly the table, still in Carl’s grasp, vaulted up toward the ceiling of our living room, very rapidly, until it was upside down to the floor and beyond our reach, except for Carl, who still held on. [...]

[...] Pressure, the newest attraction, was at once called for, and before long began to manifest itself to various degrees; at first however nothing like the pressure of Wednesday showed, but there seemed to be plenty present, enough so that each person present, especially those who had never witnessed such a thing, could take the time to experience it.

There is a friend of yours who does not have too much time here. [...] Now there seems to be another younger man connected perhaps with one of your daughters, who may be offered either a new job or something new in his line of work that may tax him and yet he will feel that he must accept it—for he is driven by ambition—and he will accept it. [...]

[...] And a man or a woman who is aware of only one of his or her own egos will be considered an idiot, indeed. [...]

[...] Who is more real than I for I take up so many inches of space? [...]

[...] The man was the kind who gained feelings of superiority and pleasure from helping you, but also helped you quite legitimately and kindly. [...]

[...] I’m the one who’s apt to become attached to old things, old places, to look back with a bit of nostalgia. [...] At the same time our black cat, Rooney, who’d died in his fifth year, lay in his grave in the backyard of the house on Water Street.⁶

[...] As far as a true psychology is concerned, individuals who are made aware of the existence of probable realities will no longer feel trapped by events. [...]

You are all counterparts of each other who are alive at any given earth time. [...]

[...] Their strenuous efforts will be endlessly appreciated: Anyone who has ever carried heavy furniture, or innumerable boxes of goods, up and down steep and turning flights of stairs will understand the gratitude Jane and I feel.

[...] Those who have survived physical death in your terms, must use words in their communications, for you do not understand wordless communications. [...]

[...] I am speaking of those who have survived death in your terms. [...]

[...] Those who have left and survive, use thoughtwords but do not need to speak, though they may (underlined). [...]

[...] (Pause.) Mr. Edwards admits that he calls upon surviving personalities, healers who have survived death in your terms. [...]

[...] Georgia was there, and saw it along with Gail Greene, who was actually taking care of her this morning. [...]

[...] We watched In Search Of, and I read to Jane the short newspaper article about the death of Newell Mullin, who is Sue Watkins’ father. [...]

[...] I’m tired of waiting,” [for Sharon, who never did show up, by the way] Jane said, and began the session. [...]

[...] Five months after my wife’s death, I called Laurel, who was an administrative assistant at a center for the arts and humanities in Los Angeles, California, for the first time. [...]

For several years after Jane’s death, I explored possible publishing ventures with old and trusted friends — people who, like Richard Kendall and Suzanne Delisle, sincerely wanted to see Jane’s and my work kept in print. [...]

Sue Watkins, who described Jane’s ESP class so well in her two-volume Conversations with Seth, recently began doing research for Conversations with Jane Roberts: A Multidimensional Memoir.

[...] There were many throw-away messiahs (with gentle amusement) — men whose circumstances, characteristics, and abilities were almost (musically) the ones needed — who almost (musically) filled the psychic bill, but who were unfitted for other reasons: They were of the wrong race, or their timing was off. [...]

There is nothing that happened in those times that is not happening now in your own: You have numberless gurus, people who seemingly perform miracles (and some do). [...]

[...] There are too many people who expect the worst from you, yet even then the creative self will try from Framework 2 to bring all resources possible, through dreams and intuitions, to alter that pessimistic progress.

My heartiest regards and a fond good evening to you, and (pointing to Willy Two, who was jammed up against my left leg and elbow as I tried to write) to your friend there.

[...] Who knows what might happen?

[...] He has little use for it, or for people who cry, because of his mother’s crying spells. [...]

[...] It is the conscientious self, incidentally, who attaches the idea of good and bad to emotions. [...]

[...] Emotions belonged to parents, who were unreasonable.

[...] Yet who must die? The young who would be the parents of children. [...]

You may have two children, one of whom, generally speaking, behaves like Augustus One, and one who acts like Augustus Two. [...]

[...] When you understand to some extent who and what you are, then I can explain more clearly who and what I am. [...]

[...] The ego prefers to consider itself the captain at the helm, so to speak, since it is the ego who most directly deals with the sometimes tumultuous seas of physical reality, and it does not want to be distracted from this task.

John asked Seth if he knew who he, John, could get to type extra copies of the material. [...] Seth said there was a woman at the college in Oswego who would do the work. [...]

[...] When I saw who was at the door I had visions of long complicated explanations, but the self-hypnosis explanation appeared to satisfy them. [...]

[...] A man who looks somewhat Lou Grant (television star Ed Asner) writes me a note saying that I’ve touched him as no other woman ever has. [...]

[...] I was dancing with middle-aged man who had some limp or such. [...]

One of the most rare and extraordinary developments that can occur in schizophrenic behavior is the construction of a seeming superbeing of remarkable power — one who is able to convince other people of his divinity.

Most such instances historically have involved males, who claim to have the powers of clairvoyance, prophecy, and omnipotence. [...]

[...] Just as I was opening the garage door, I met a woman who had pulled into the driveway, who has a tumor and wanted to see Jane. [...]

[...] Those who set up laws and rules and regulations often find themselves confronted with those laws and rules and regulations in other lives and through their own struggle then, to escape from these, then they learn that the laws and rules and regulations were not beneficial. [...]

[...] But those who have been princes in the Church in the past often find themselves confronted in later lives with the laws and regulations that they themselves helped form. [...]

[...] Her mother was a poor young woman who lived and came from the same town that you did, thirteen miles from Dublin. [...]

The mother was the woman who had the illegitimate child. [...]