“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] In a manner of speaking, you encouraged him to become more dependent in that way, while encouraging him to use his mental and psychic abilities. [...]

[...] It is reasonable for him to say that now he is not walking properly. [...]

[...] I have the impression of a tall piece of furniture near him. [...] I believe it is behind him.

[...] The outlet was excellent for him, and in this case incidentally the energy was far from lost, though it was used. [...]

[...] All of this made him feel that he was not living up to expectations, that he was to some extent a failure for not doing all of those things. [...]

[...] You were of course of great help to him this morning. [...]

Now as Ruburt said earlier, he (Martin) is a good man and besides that I like him. [...] Now the vitality that is within him is expressed in a different way than you express your own and the terms attached to it. [...]

He should have a taste of a higher level of consciousness again, which further lifts him out of the cause-and-effect sequence. Some dreams he has forgotten have already begun to acquaint him with new developments. [...]

[...] Psychology did not challenge him. [...]

[...] We’ve heard of him before—Donald Hebb, now 72—and his own story is a classic case of self-suggestion over the years.)

[...] We are indeed, instead, going to progress in a very slow manner, and give him tidbits. If we outline a whole program, then he will plunge into it, and we will have him go more slowly. [...]

Nor do we want to rid him of one illness so quickly that he still feels a need for it, for in such a case he would indeed very promptly develop another. [...]

[...] It was hard for him to describe, he said.

[...] He also asked the Gallaghers not to say any more about the trip to him, once the subject had been brought up. [...]

[...] The man who is given the book startles the man who gives it to him by quoting a line from Dante having to do with (his?) not appointing God. [...]

[...] She may not like him overmuch.

Incidentally, our Jesuit’s ulcer bothers him this evening, quite strongly.

[...] Jane, her back to him, stood up so quickly that she banged her head on an open cupboard door. [...]

[...] Watch him even now.

[...] Entangling himself in Jane’s feet as she tried to pace back and forth, he finally interrupted her dictation while she petted him. [...]

[...] I had been doing some painting when once again I seemed to see my brother Loren, as a monk in a previous life, wearing his old red robe, fall face down with outstretched arms upon the same dusty red road upon which I had seen him before. [...]

(“I had the feeling that Seth was in this chute or tunnel, in miniature, and that he looked like he does in your portrait of him, only in full length.”¹

[...] The blueprint gave him an idea of his potentials, and how they could be best fulfilled in earthly terms.³

[...] And I didn’t know Seth was going to explain those visions until I got that flash from him just before he came through. [...]

[...] Seth first announced his presence by name in the 4th session for December 8, 1963; I painted him in 1966.

[...] These few statements, however, will help him, and help him enlarge on an inner circle of acquaintanceship with friendly colleagues that belong in those other categories, but indeed are friendly colleagues as well.

[...] Her “undeviating direction,” expressed in Poem One below, is directly related to the material about her that I quoted from Seth in Note 6 for Session 931, in Chapter 9 of Dreams: “Nothing, however, would have kept him at the sessions for this amount of time unless he wanted them.” [...]

[...] Man’s “I am,” [seemingly] apart from nature — a characteristic necessary for the development of his kind of consciousness — led him into value judgments, and also necessitated some break with the deep inner certainties of other species.

[...] Man’s imagination made him a great maker of myths. [...]

[...] If a human was in a catatonic state after a battle, for instance, the “animal medicine man” would purposely shock the patient into an emotional reaction to bring him out of the state.

[...] (Am not sure here.) One older than the others—perhaps (now, perhaps) 48—some difficulty and misunderstandings connected with him. [...]

[...] For I know him, you see.

(Sarah asked if we could receive nonverbal communication from him and Seth said he’d try. [...]

[...] Some of these events would have been trivial, but all would have led him toward that predicted big win. [...]

[...] Your desire to help him led to that perception. [...]

Some strange connection with him and geese. [...]

[...] I talked to him because he talked to me. [...] I enjoyed talking with him. But as far as thinking that I could learn any more by listening to him than I could from coming here, or just listening to myself  because if Joel is capable of doing this, so am I. If he can look in, so can I.”

[...] To him all realities are psychological realities, a thought as real as a chair—in fact, much more real. [...]

[...] Seth didn’t say so but she received from him the definite feeling that Catherine is a male. [...]

[...] This lack is always with him, and it is caused by a particular shallow area in his personality that is not developed.

[...] Dick wants the young lady to marry him. [...]

[...] And it is indeed that contract between him and me that always assures you of the authenticity of Seth’s work.

[...] To have attempted to censor Seth since 1963, say, to “keep him to ourselves” on that particular subject, would have long ago turned into an impossibly complicated and dishonest task: Jane and I would have become involved in a constant distortion of his material as we rewrote the sessions. [...]

[...] No one chose for him.

A rich man who tries to be poor for a day to learn what poverty is learns little, because he cannot forget the wealth that is available to him. [...]

The projection of the man’s anima, or hidden female self, upon [his] relations is quite natural, and allows him not only to understand them better but to relate with the other female existences of his own. [...]

[...] The tension between the two leads him to temper aggressiveness with creativity, or to use aggressiveness creatively.