“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

I have been here, as Ruburt knows well, through your class this evening, and he has given me permission, for I would not dare peek into this class unless he told me that I could do so. For such a small and slender snip he holds his own. We do, however, have a very good relationship, as I’m sure you know by now. And you understand, I know, my humor. My energy has been silent but potent in this room, like that bottle of wine that sits upon the table. But Ruburt knew that I would be here before class was over, and I come to you with no great pronouncements. The material is my pronouncement, and I back up the material with my presence. And when you read the material, then indeed you know who it is that has given it, and if you hear a laugh behind the material as you read it, let there be no doubt in your mind that I am here. While I do not follow you, tippety-toe, behind you to your school halls and your hallowed bank corridors, nevertheless I am aware, generally, of your activities, and I know when you are reading my material.

Now when I speak to you as I have this evening, my purpose, my one and main purpose, is to let you sense the endless vitality that is mine, though you, in conventional terms, would designate me by some ridiculous word—survival personality, as Ruburt says, or “spirit” or “dead.” My vitality is the same vitality that is your own. I am not here, in your terms, but I am very much here.

I should be a bishop, for the looks upon your faces, the reverence and the quiet and the awed expression. I am indeed honored. I feel, and I do indeed feel, as you with the perpetual motion leg will know, like a friend to all of you this evening and hardly like a bishop. Nor would I think of shattering a window to prove so paltry a point as the existence of my own unlimited vitality and energy. For my friend Ruburt would never allow it. However, my thoughts are strong. My only point in such unseeming [sic] and undignified, unbusinesslike and unconventional demonstration—I would make a poor bank president—my only point is to let you know that existence knows no barriers and a breeze and ease through blood and bone are born [sic]. I could and I would—and I would—enjoy speaking in such a manner until dawn, but you could never take it, and Ruburt would hide in the cellar for three days following.