“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] Jane asked for water, but her left arm began rotating so fast she couldn’t drink. [...]

[...] I explained to Jane that I’d reached the point in the last year where I just couldn’t let anything interfere with the act of painting itself—and that I thought she needed an attitude like that in regard to her own work very badly. [...]

[...] “If it was me,” I said, and I probably shouldn’t have, “I couldn’t wait to get something on what’s going on, in the hope that it would help.” [...]

[...] I was also struck by my reaction to the whole development, and couldn’t help comparing my reaction to Jane’s reaction to her own symptoms. [...]

[...] by Robert W. Lawson, © 1961 by the Estate of Albert Einstein, Crown Publishers, Inc., New York, N.Y.) She soon laid it aside, telling me that she couldn’t understand much of it except by making a strong effort of will. [...]

[...] To make sense to us as physical creatures, any “truth” must undergo transformations, be couched in certain terms or we couldn’t understand it. [...]

[...] I heard very dim jazz music and couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. [...]

[...] It was something concerning what it was like to be an entity, yet so vague it couldn’t be put into words, really.

[...] Yet she couldn’t move her right leg to the side at all—“There’s no action there at all,” she said, “as though something’s blocking it.” [...]

[...] Jane said she didn’t have the vocabulary for it; it was something “he” knew he couldn’t get her to say.

(I was also puzzled about our problems because, as I told Jane before the session, I couldn’t see where as individuals we were doing anything so terribly wrong. [...]

[...] I’d explained that I thought the personality was a symbol to him, of what I couldn’t be sure quickly. [...]

[...] She had experienced many images, but couldn’t put them into words now. [...]

[...] Not that I couldn’t. If I do say so myself my prose is excellent. [...]

I couldn’t tell Rob what I was experiencing, of course, but he began to suspect that something was happening. [...]

[...] What could it do that Seth couldn’t? [...]

[...] I couldn’t say what I got just now.” [...]

[...] I couldn’t see it clearly. [...]

(I kept trying to verbalize a thought that had come to me after supper tonight, but couldn’t get it out. [...]

(But I stressed that no matter what she did about books, no matter what hassles we might get involved in about that activity, she just couldn’t give up physical mobility in order to express any lack of psychological mobility that we might become involved in. [...]

[...] She tried reading my notes for it now, since I had only one page typed from them, but couldn’t decipher my homemade shorthand. [...]

(October 8, 1964, Thursday, 11 AM: Fleeting images; couldn’t retain them.