“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Then you were told that you had to put those letters together to make words. Again you made many mistakes, and forgot them as with delight you now wrote separate words. Then you were told to put the words into sentences, and you followed the same procedure. You forgot your mistakes. Were you stupid or dumb—or an asshole—when you could only form simple letters? Obviously not. Your aspirations and your curiosity kept leading you toward a more complete development, until you could finally read and write whole paragraphs.

When you first learned to write in school, you had to be taught how to form the letters. You made many mistakes. Finally, however, you could form the letters quite easily. You felt triumphant. You forgot the mistakes you had made in the past. You had accomplished something.

[...] I forgot to ask her what it had been this morning.

(4:45 p.m. I forgot to tell Jane about a dream I had last night. [...]

We learned the methods
so long ago
that they’re unconscious,
and we’ve hypnotized ourselves
into believing
that we’re the audience,
so I wonder where we served
our apprenticeship.
Under what master magicians did we learn
to form reality
so smoothly that we forgot to tell ourselves
the secret?

[...] Got upset about the New York thing—forgot Seth’s “prime data” thing. [...]

Forgot: during night my stomach muscles right side lower suddenly relaxed & felt fantastic—I didn’t realize they weren’t relaxed before—then left side of my groin itched & all the flesh went soft & relaxed (and sort of flabby).

(Jane called me last night — forgot to tell me Debbie Harris visited.

[...] Since Jane doesn’t look at the book, she is unable to remind me of such points unless I happen to discuss them with her, and I forgot to do that, too.)

[...] He forgot, once again, that the creative self is aware of his entire life, and that his impulses have a creative purpose. [...]

[...] Then instantly I forgot the entire thing, both incidents, until dinner. [...]

[...] I meant to investigate that one when I turned Jane later in the day, but forgot to. [...]

(And speaking of secrets, I forgot to tell Jane that although I slept well last night, I took baking soda before going to bed when my stomach began to bother me a bit. [...]

[...] When we left Jane forgot her pocketbook and Marilyn returned it Saturday morning; she had her son with her and Jane had more time to observe him. [...]

He did not tell you the many times he used my suggestions with good results in Rochester, simply because when he had the time to talk to you other matters had arisen, and he forgot some of the instances.

[...] He completely forgot that personalities have their own choices to make. [...]

[...] Again, he forgot the integrity of the personality. [...]

[...] I believe Jane forgot to do this the next day.)

[...] While she was eating a good lunch I thought of telling her the typewriter repair service had called this morning, citing a bill for $90.00 for the repair and a box of a dozen cartridges, but I forgot to mention it as we talked about other things. [...]

[...] Ruburt hit on an idea yesterday, and forgot it: he mentally pretended that he was skiing. [...]

[...] Very shortly he forgot the entire affair. [...]

[...] Ruburt noticed them and forgot them once again. [...]

[...] Religion tried to make the devil into a black shadow of God, His counterpoint and yet opposite, but man forgot what counterpoint meant. [...]

[...] “I forgot: my head went up through the roof and I guess I was a giant walking over the earth. [...]

[...] Jane brought in two slices of pizza—so I forgot to bring them home with me at 7:05 PM tonight.... [...]

[...] Working this afternoon was most pleasant; I forgot all about my back trouble. [...]

(To Bette.) There is also someone, my dear cousin of Richelieu, you forgot in your out-of-body state. [...]