“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

The last sentence is important, for in your lifetimes your experience must be physically felt and interpreted. [...]

[...] Seth’s remarks about Willy Two, or Billy, as we sometimes call him now, were obviously made in response to the funny annoyance we’d felt before the session, when the kitten had been in great form; jumping all over the furniture, pawing at the curtains — as well as Jane and me — getting in our papers, and so forth.)

[...] They represent the intent to discover once again the true transparent delight that you once felt in the manipulation of your own consciousness, as you looped and unlooped it like a child’s jumping rope.

(Nevertheless, during the morning Jane suddenly felt that “something was ready.” [...]

[...] They looked for values, but at the same time they felt that they were themselves sons and daughters of a species tainted, at loose ends, with no clear destinations.

[...] The disadvantaged and the advantaged alike then joined in a bond of hopelessness, endowing a leader with a power they felt they did not possess.

(Earlier in the day I had heard Jane remark casually, after a little talk between us, that if she felt like it she would let Seth come through during class tonight. [...]

(Earlier in the day I had heard Jane remark causally, after a little talk between us, that if she felt like it she would let Seth come through during class tonight. [...]

[...] I explained my feelings to Jane as we sat for the session, and as I talked felt myself sink into a deep depression. [...]

[...] I hardly felt like it. [...]

For one who felt poorly at the start of the session, Jane now said she felt fine. [...]

[...] When I fell in love with Rob, my joy served to double the underlying sense of tragedy I felt, as if death mocked me all the more by making life twice as precious. [...]

[...] Suddenly I felt silly. [...]

(By 8:50 Jane felt definite stirrings from Seth, which pleased her because she didn’t have to wonder about how she would do this evening. [...]

[...] Jane had awareness of her surroundings but still felt like “taking off.” [...]

[...] Her hands felt all right by now and her voice had dropped to almost normal volume.

[...] Jane said she felt Seth “pushed through” a lot of important material, and in so doing used up a lot of her energy in a way she doesn’t yet understand. [...]

[...] My hand so far felt no fatigue from writing. [...]

[...] From time immemorial they have felt emotionally recharged from a storm, and this is of course exactly what happens. [...]

[...] My hand felt a little fatigue but nothing like it used to. [...]

[...] We felt badly indeed — yet that night Jane insisted upon holding the 837th session.²

[...] It wasn’t that the loss of “just a cat” was the only thing involved in our deep upsets (although Billy’s death came first in our reactions); we also felt a host of emotional and intellectual ramifications arising from that event. [...]

We’d felt the same way when Willy had died three years ago, and now — as she had then — Jane said sadly: “If I could answer our questions about that cat’s death, maybe I could answer our questions about everything….”

[...] Jane told me that in hydro this morning she’d felt new movement in her right leg—the broken one—that it both tried to move more, and to straighten out more. [...]

[...] I’d felt somewhat better after Seth’s information about those portions of my anatomy in the deleted part of the last session, the 846th, for the previous Wednesday. [...]

[...] Jane also said she felt somewhat put out, or “pulled up short” at the short session, although earlier this evening she had expressed the wish for either a short session, or none at all, so we could attend the opening of the supper club operated by our landlord.)

One point I wanted to mention: Peggy Gallagher telepathically picked up your moods, and felt the impetus to visit.

[...] Jane said she felt it was a good session, an unusual occasion to get some new ideas, so she went along with Seth & his entity. [...]

[...] Upon reading the card I felt it out of the ordinary, more than a mere acknowledgment. [...]

[...] “I felt like when I got slow there a couple of times that it didn’t have anything to do with dozing off” she said, referring to a few longer pauses. [...]

[...] 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. [...]

[...] His weaknesses were out in the open, dramatically presented, and from that point, unless he chose death he could only go forward—for suddenly he felt that there was after all some room to move, that achievements were possible, where before all accomplishments seemed beside the point in the face of his expected superhuman activity.

Our explorations involved no secondhand evidence handed down by others, but the direct personal encounter of our consciousness and being with the vast elements of the unknown—a meeting of the self (human and vulnerable) with the psychological realms of gods and eternities; giant realms of mind that our nature felt attracted to … and [was] uniquely equipped to perceive.

[...] She said the cramps in her arms had seemingly disappeared; she felt much better since the start of the session. [...]

As you know now, Ruburt handled himself well in a new situation, and that maturity gained these past two years was instantly felt. [...]

(In spite of her protestations, however, Jane felt Seth near as we talked —then when he came through he did discuss the subjects we were concerned about at the moment.)

[...] Creative people, again, are often aware of those connections, at least at certain levels, and Ruburt in particular has always felt that way to some extent. [...]