“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

If he works on his dream book daily now, for at least two hours, this plus the benefit from his classes should give noticeable improvement. [...]

[...] She had no sense of an hour’s having passed. [...]

[...] You cannot begin to understand how you form the physical events of your lives unless you understand the connections between creativity, dreams, play, and those events that form your waking hours. [...]

[...] But Jane and I have seen the pattern demonstrated again and again: the visitor walks in the door, starts talking, usually about himself or herself, and seldom stops until leaving x-number of hours later. [...]

[...] It would take me many hours to explain this. [...]

[...] Then within a few hours after lift-off, the shuttle’s crew had to deal with the malfunction of one of the ship’s three fuel cells. [...]

[...] The noises stopped after an hour or so.

[...] And behind those windows, at night in that living room, she paces back and forth for hours at a time after she begins to speak for Seth in December 1963. [...]

[...] After supper, I did the dishes and worked on my poetry for an hour, and then Rob got out the board. [...]

[...] The session was held on the evening of January 2, 1964 and lasted three hours. [...]

(Pause at 10:45.) The hour is growing late. [...]

[...] Now an hour later traces of lightness and suspension still linger. [...]

[...] The half-hour limit should always be maintained, however. [...]

Once more, even the word time is misleading, but within the boundaries of your clock reality every individual feels at times—but you see that the use of the word itself binds us—but every individual feels now and then the primary sense of existence that is not arbitrarily divided into moments and hours; and he therefore escapes from a secondary condition into the realization of a primary reality behind it.

[...] For a while, again, have him write three hours of free writing, and paint or whatever. [...]

[...] That fall she continued on the job after school hours, and on an occasional Saturday.

[...] Seth could have gone on for hours.)

[...] She didn’t remember the material, and was amazed that an hour had passed. [...]

There were countless other events that happened to you on different afternoons at the same hour, both before and after that one. [...]

[...] “Now I don’t know what to do — I could go to bed or continue the session for hours. …” She’d spent most of her day writing lyrics for rock music — for reasons not necessary to go into here — and now that activity reminded her of a poem she’d written in May 1963, well over six months before she began speaking for Seth. [...]

[...] Jane then said that “days must have passed, as far as time went, for just an hour and a half.”)

[...] What was undone in several hours this evening took a year and a half to set up. [...]

Now I will not keep you because my friend is reminding me of your hour. [...]