“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

The fears, written down, are encouraging. You confront them and they appall you. But they are far more appalling hidden.

(9:50. I was appalled, and I suppose that from my own actions Jane was too. For the moment at least I felt terribly discouraged. While Jane left the room for a brief time, I asked my pendulum a question, and received this answer: “I don’t think Jane wants to get well.” The question had occurred to me during last night, I believe, but I had forgotten it until now.

(10:50. Truly, I felt appalled, almost overwhelmed. Many feelings came in rapid succession. Typing this up two days later, I note that the material is indeed charged as the feelings return to some degree. We’ve already discussed them to some extent, and believe we are making progress, etc.)

[...] The earlier religious scene suggests that I was appalled to find my abilities leading me anywhere within the realm of religious ideas at all to start with. [...]

[...] I was sort of appalled at the lost work in the Dream manuscript but realized Rob has been right along; and the editor was right. [...]

[...] He fears for the gullibility of people, and is rightly appalled at their superstitions — as you are, Joseph (as Seth calls me). [...]

[...] I spoke on television, and you were both appalled at the gulf between what you saw as the idealized message of our work, and the ludicrous (pause) lack of integrity of the environment in which that ideal was expressed. [...]

While still devoted to the ideal, you were both quite appalled, simplistically speaking. [...]

[...] Its discipline through suffering is one of Christianity’s most appalling effects. [...]

[...] I was appalled, while thinking at the same time that perhaps at last we’ve finally reached the core of the problem, and can take steps to do something about it. [...]

[...] But all of a sudden my physical condition did seem horrendous, and I looked at her kindly concerned face, I’m sure, with appalling dismay. [...]

[...] If I ever thought that the methods and exercises needed were too difficult, then I have to admit that when you put those simple requirements against the appalling time and energy needed to follow medical procedure, there certainly is little comparison. [...]

(I was appalled as what I was seeing began to sink in. [...]

[...] He fears for the gullibility of people, and is rightly appalled at their superstitions, as indeed you are, Joseph. [...]

[...] It was clear something had happened: Jane said her legs were more relaxed than they’d been in years—but at the same time they were so sore she was appalled. [...]

[...] A great painting of a battle scene, for example, may show the ability of the artist as he projects in all its appalling drama the inhuman and yet all-too-human conditions of war. [...]

[...] Instantly I remembered the dream, while being appalled at the size of the bill. [...]

(I studied this session to better grasp my Nebene characteristics then [and now] by painting his image, and then drawing him again, but now I’m appalled by my behavior in first-century Rome. [...]

[...] He was appalled that your ability, while disciplined, lacked the intent and purpose, the search for truth and meaning, he felt being adulterated. [...]

[...] I was frightened by her reactions — appalled that after all we were trying to do, she still reacted to something beneficial — the coughing — as something to be scared of. [...]

Ruburt has been reading old poetry of his own, and he was appalled to find such beliefs in rather brutal, concentrated form. [...]

[...] … There is so much to be said here, and you have so much to learn, that sometimes I have to admit that I’m appalled.

[...] Actually, they do not parallel the outer senses; and this will sound appalling to you, I’m afraid, simply because there is nothing to be seen, heard or touched in the manner in which you are accustomed. [...]

[...] Once begun, these feelings attracted to them others from the past, so that I was appalled and finally had great difficulty.

[...] “Intellectually part of me is appalled but I feel triumphant also because I’ve got a clear channel up through here—”she indicated her stomach, chest and throat—”and got the material out. [...]

Now you have even made—both of you, now—the same kind of moral, or I should say immoral, judgments about Ruburt’s condition, which with your joint perfectionism is doubly appalling. [...]

[...] Had I begun writing books, Ruburt would have been appalled, thinking that I was invading his province. [...]

It is then, again, the spontaneity of his own being that alternately delights and appalls him. [...]