“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] Do not cry wolf, wolf, unless you mean it. [...]

[...] As children do, she cried and made a fuss. [...]

[...] Actually the child cried but briefly. [...]

For I am permitted to cry only through your voice …

If you find yourself falling short, of illness, then by all means consider yourself healthy, and do not cry because you cannot see or measure up to, I should say down to, the same sick standards.

When our Wilford dramatically cries out to his mistress: “I am afraid my wife will learn of our affair,” then the symphony playing on another station becomes melodramatic, and the sports program shows that a hero fumbles the football. [...]

[...] ‘You’re the York Beach couple again,’ I cry, and this is the first time they notice me.

[...]
The cat strolled about in the warm lamplight.
“The coffee must be done,” I cried.

[...] She was mumbling and crying to herself, confused and disoriented. [...]

[...] Although everyone about me was talking quite loudly, I had the weird sensation of voices within me, of mouths open or crying in soundless rhythm. [...]

[...] Yet last night it had been her arms and elbows—I’d say that during the night she’d wake me up over a dozen times crying in her sleep at the discomfort in her arms. [...]

[...] Here Doris began to cry a little. [...]

[...] Our poor maligned friend, the ape, did not suddenly beat his hairy chest in exultation and cry, ‘I am a man.’ The beginnings of human consciousness, on the other hand, began as soon as multi-cellular groupings began to form in field patterns of a certain complexity.

Deep is the cry

[...] My words were a warning, and I do not warn without reason, and I do not cry wolf.

[...] Finally I returned to my body and stood up to the cries and shouts of recognition. [...]

Just as though it had been waiting for the right moment last night, a screech owl began to sound its sorrowful descending cry in the black woods on the hill behind our house. [...]

[...] For here we find self-deluded well-meaning nincompoops, ready and willing to accept any fraud, and cry hallelujah! [...]

[...] All I know is that I awakened myself crying, my body very sore, sat on the side of the bed and made the following connections from my feelings at the time.

[...] I wrote: “Always very religious in his lives, Jim cried with compassion for his fellow human beings.” [...]