“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] She seldom asked me to do this, since after supper on any Thursday I’d be busy in my studio at the back of the apartment, typing up my crude homemade shorthand notes of the session she’d given the evening before for just the two of us.

[...] Often I felt sorry for the other tenants in the big old apartment house we live in on West Water Street, in Elmira, New York. [...]

[...] In the experience the kitten was in the hospital room, and there seemed to be adjoining rooms, as at 458 (the address of the apartment house we’d lived in on W. Water Street). This signified that Ruburt was building up similarities between present and past experience, so that the kitten, appearing in the dream’s present and past also, would indeed appear in the future.

Ruburt’s mother was turned in different directions, and her reality existed quite apart from any daughter. [...]

[...] Let me say first of all that the many rooms and apartments to be explored all represented various facets of psychic realities, hence his anticipation in the dream. The shop within the apartment had to do with the physical dimension and various physical abilities which are based on past-life experiences.

The separate building of apartments represented possibilities in the more distant future. [...]

[...] The important point here being that you are outside of your apartment, and also that you are with other people. [...]

[...] Our friend accepted the invitation, with the proviso that he would come to the apartment providing his office was clear of patients by 9 PM. [...]

[...] By 8:55 Doc Piper had not appeared, and from my studio in the back of the apartment I could look across backyards and see his office lights still on. [...]

The proximity of the river to your apartment should be utilized. [...]

[...] Any creative physical improvements in the apartment will help. [...]

[...] You each have an odd ingrown idea that writers and artists exist somehow apart from their personhood. [...] They must somehow dwell alone and apart.

(The bathroom is in the center of our apartment; the living room is on one side of it, the bedroom and my studio on the other. [...]

You could have left the apartment indeed. [...]

[...] In fact, it was she who answered the door, to speak briefly with someone who was looking for another apartment on our floor.

[...] I will here in your apartment however keep a careful watch.

When I look up at those three high, old-fashioned bay windows that illuminate the living room of Apartment 4, on the second floor of that house, I visualize Jane sitting behind them at her oak table, thinking and writing, intrigued and comforted by the busy patterns of people and automobiles traversing the intersection she looks down upon: Walnut and West Water Streets. [...] Accordingly, then, a Jane Roberts Butts and a Robert F. Butts live in that apartment I’m creating. [...]

[...] / My shell / grew soft as a web /
then it fell apart / and was whisked off sighing /
in the morning / wind. [...]

[...] The yearning I feel each time I drive past the apartment house Jane and I lived in for 15 years, just west of the business section of Elmira, represents my conscious reunification of the past with the present, and even a projection of both into the future in ordinary terms.

(Note: All of the photographs of Jane that appear in The Seth Material were taken in the living room of Apartment 4 early in 1970; glimpses of the room appear in those shots. [...]

(From 1960 to 1975, Jane and I [and Willy!] lived in a second-floor apartment, No. [...] Here’s my July 1964 diagram of the apartment’s living room, where the activities in the 68th session took place.)

[...] Willy began to stalk through the apartment, crying out; it was a cool night and no bugs were to be seen. [...]

(From my studio at the back of the apartment came Willie’s cry. [...]

[...] Concrete plans for an apartment should be made with the coming of autumn. [...]

[...] Through mutual friends Jane and I had met Mary several years ago: while on a business trip to New York City, we had stayed at her apartment for a number of days.

[...] You can be surrounded by some noise (as Seth, Jane pointed to the ceiling; someone was moving into the apartment above us) or traffic, and feel its great synthesis with the vitality of life, and it can be conducive to peace. [...]

[...] We slept in the living room for the night because the back of the apartment was chilly. [...]

[...] Had he been more critical at the time, he could have caused the hallucinations to disappear, continued with them or left the apartment.

[...] I left the apartment and had two very long adventures in the astral condition, all clear and vivid, and recorded in my notes.

You will feel more comfortable if the initial journeys are only within your apartment in the beginning. [...]

[...] She had been interviewing people in the apartment house about their experiences. [...]

Also, after supper, it developed that Miss Cunningham, the retired school teacher in the front apartment, suffered an attack of some sort and was in urgent need of help. [...]

Coming in and out of Miss Cunningham’s apartment, Jane would tell me the snatches of thought she received from Seth. [...]

(An unscheduled session was held on Friday evening, December 3,1965, in our apartment. [...]

[...] Much of this is the result of the limitations of the physical organism, but much more is the effect of the development of the ego, which attempts to set itself up and apart from action.

[...] A friend of ours who lives in our apartment house knows the two dancers, who live together in the neighborhood. [...]

(From one of the apartments below us came the very faint sounds of classical music. [...]

The simplicity of natural guilt does not lead to what you think of as conscience, yet conscience is also dependent upon that moment of reflection that in a large measure sets you apart from the animals. [...]

[...] The ego attempts to stand apart from action, and to stand apart from the personality, and to mold the personality into a more or less permanent and stable, dependent portion of the ego itself.

The other still-lingering symptoms will quickly vanish also; the pendulum sessions, quite apart from our sessions, should be maintained as a kind of personal psychic hygiene until the habit of communication is thoroughly established. [...]

They cannot be intellectually held apart from the whole self. [...]