“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] It was fun to do, and I knew what was coming, but going back like that I couldn’t get it.”

[...] But it sounds dumb when you say it now: Physical entities couldn’t hold all that much consciousness. [...]

From my reading of Seth’s ideas of “in the beginning,” however, I’m sure he couldn’t agree with either the big-bang or inflationary models of the creation of the universe, even though his material may be evocative of portions of both theories. [...]

(However, her new lower teeth were bothering her a great deal; her mouth was so sore she couldn’t eat part of her lunch. [...]

[...] At the same time, I couldn’t help wondering why Peggy had chosen this day to visit us, of all days. [...]

[...] Carl & others were concerned that Jane couldn’t exert enough control to come out herself.

[...] I didn’t know—and at that point I couldn’t figure it out. [...] Here again, left to my own devices, I couldn’t work my way to the specific data we wanted.

[...] Seth also gave other impressions concerning the woman’s background, but we couldn’t check these out.

[...] Seth’s impressions couldn’t have been more concise. [...]

With no idea of how we were doing, I couldn’t have cared less, finally, what Dr. Instream was concentrating on. [...]

[...] If I couldn’t see him I couldn’t tell. [...] I remember somehow equating all the silence about me with a forbidding white wall. And in parentheses: (I don’t know why I felt that way, but I did.) I couldn’t die deaf (Jane said with a laugh at 11:45). I think I had imagined that everything would shut down gradually. [...]

Jane tried to write with her impaired right hand, frustrated again and again because she couldn’t hold a pen well enough to put down the ideas stirring in her mind. [...]

[...] I painted in the mornings, searching for a peace of mind that I couldn’t obtain in any other way. [...]

[...] Jane had forgotten to tell me, but someone from downstairs had wanted to cut Jane’s hair this morning, but then couldn’t because of a clash of schedules with Jane going to hydro. [...]

[...] I granted that one could always say that the same end couldn’t be achieved by not going as far, but then, I told Jane, if one followed that line of reasoning to its logical conclusion, physical death would result — that state would be the final extreme of any form of behavior.

[...] We couldn’t accept the evidence of our senses, nor could we really deny such obvious evidence. [...]

Actually, for the first time in our lives we found ourselves experiencing events that we couldn’t explain, and doubting the obvious evidence of our senses—an uncomfortable spot for anyone. [...]

[...] Rob just couldn’t believe that he was speaking to me, in any ordinary terms. [...]

[...] I couldn’t distinguish words or meanings here. [...]

[...] We are the inner motion —” I couldn’t decipher the last syllable or word.)

[...] She couldn’t really understand what “they” wanted her to do, if anything.

[...] But Jane couldn’t really define any sources behind last night’s material, beyond calling them “consciousnesses, or beings — but maybe not personalities as we think of that term.” [...]

[...] For the life of me I couldn’t recall my own mother’s birthday. [...]

[...] A maintenance man came, but couldn’t find out what was wrong with the heater. [...]

[...] After lunch Jane told me that Steve and Tracy had sent her a telegram Sunday night, saying they couldn’t make it for a variety of reasons. [...]

(I couldn’t help noticing as I walked down the hall on my way out, how busy all the patient rooms were, the cacophony of sounds, the numerous visitors, patients and nurses and aides. [...]

([Rob:] “I was going to say I couldn’t even eavesdrop.”)

[...] I replied that all I knew was that she couldn’t move like that before taking the vitamins, the peanut oil massages, and the cod liver oil, etc., but I added that I was more than happy to credit sessions, beliefs, and/or anything else that gave us results. [...]

[...] I knew my physical legs couldn’t move that freely, although they are in good shape. [...]

[...] I couldn’t possibly duplicate them while awake.

[...] “I sort of had images while that was going on,” she said, “but I couldn’t tell you what they were.” [...]

(I asked Jane if she wanted to have a session, since I couldn’t think of anything else to do or say. [...]

10:10 P.M. “He slips it in on me, that’s what he does,” Jane remarked, when I kidded her about saying the session couldn’t be for Dreams. [...]

[...] “Most of it I couldn’t get—the teachers just went too fast. [...]

[...] She couldn’t make out the session for yesterday at all, so I read it to her. [...]