“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] Again, a capital letter impression, a large M. Minneapolis, Mississippi—that length of word, with a place description connected.

[...] Again, a capital letter impression, a large M. Minneapolis, Mississippi—that length of word, with a place description connected.” [...]

[...] This is not printing, although Seth has often intermixed the terms printing, writing, lettering, typing, etc. [...]

(She thought the last paragraph came about because our same friend had made some notes about authentic survival messages being given in “shorthand,” the letter “U” for the word you, etc.

[...] The connections tonight were predominantly related with the envelope object itself, and not displaced onto another as they had been in the last session, and in the 234th, which involved the episode of the four letters.

[...] Seth obligingly spelled it out letter by letter.)

[...] Certain arbitrary dates can be selected, any dates, for necessary letters to editors; and these letters should be written as automatically as possible.

In more specific terms, I’m organizing this rather short exploration of Jane’s death around these items; a loose chronology surrounding her writing of Seth, Dreams … in 1966-67, and our unsuccessful attempts to sell the book; my acceptance of the survival of the personality after physical death; a waking experience involving my sensing Jane very soon after she had died; a metaphor I created for her death; a dream in which I not only contacted her but gave myself relevant information; another metaphor for Jane’s death; my speculations about communication among entities, whether they’re physical or nonphysical; a letter that could be from the discarnate Jane — one that was sent to me by its recipient, a caring correspondent whom I’ll call Valerie Wood; a note I wrote to Sue Watkins about the death of her mother; some quotations from a published letter of mine; Jane’s notes concerning the relationship we had; and, finally, the poem in which she refers to her nonphysical journeys to come.

[...] In this view, those elements in such messages that have no meaning for me can be only distortions on the part of the medium or the letter-writer or the poet. [...]

That vision reminds me of a letter of mine that has just appeared in Reality Change, a magazine its editor is devoting to the Seth Material, and publishing in Austin, Texas. [...]

[...] I’d typed a letter to our lawyer, regarding our taxes, and mailed it this noon. [...]

I suggest one of you write him a good letter, leaving lines of communication open.

[...] By then I’d answered two of the three letters we’d received today, for both writers wanted to come here—one from California, the other from Australia. [...]

[...] As you yourself write letters to friends in strange countries and do not forget them, so we do not forget.

(Since my senses seemed so acute, Rob asked me to read a letter on my bulletin board, the small print on a match cover, and a few lines from a book, all held out much further than I could usually manage. [...]

[...] Twice she made determined efforts to write larger; when she did she wrote very large and with much force, and the letters leaned at odd angles and had a stiff feeling to them. [...]

This causes many people to feel as if they were travelers in some strange land—but instead of receiving intimate letters from home, they receive only stylized postcard pictures, that do not bear any resemblance to the home they vaguely remember. [...]

(Just before she took a nap this noon, Jane received a letter from a man who explained that he’d married a woman with genetic deformities of her hands. [...]

(Eleanor’s letter about this is dated October 4, 1972. [...]

[...] Along with our other projects—including answering a steady flow of letters—Jane and I spent the month going over Mass Events, accepting some suggestions but rejecting many others. [...]

[...] That session had been triggered, at least in part, by a letter Jane had found to be quite upsetting.

[...] Yet, I told Jane, look at the excellent letters we’ve recently received from psychiatrists, mathematicians, and “ordinary” folk engaged in a variety of endeavors.

[...] (So have others, according to their letters, even though the books are indexed.)

[...] In a letter received today, Pat Norelli had this to say pertaining to the material given by Seth concerning her in this session:

(Yesterday I found in the mail a letter from Steve Blumenthal, requesting copies of just about every record we’ve got, and so forth—no need to go into that here. [...]

[...] I thought the letters from readers would also slack off. [...]

(Soon we’ll be able to start sending out Seth’s own letter to some of our correspondents; he dictated it in the 633rd session. [...]

[...] Jane told him in her subsequent letter that we are relying upon Prentice-Hall and John Nelson to tell us what to do about legal advice when the time comes, if it does.

[...] The books are more effective than any letter to a congressman, and you put the substance of your life into your notes.

(Seth’s reference to a letter to a congressman came about, I think, because during our conversation on Friday night Bill Gallagher said that no one present had done anything to protest the conditions in our world that we didn’t like—forgetting, of course, that the books themselves are full of protests, and of suggestions for the better. [...]

[...] You were cultured for the times but without way, and made a living writing letters for other people. You had a fondness for music but all your life you copied the notes and letters of others. [...]