“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Gramacy was a psychologist and a magician, and he came to our house because he was a scientist looking for some real magic. He was a compact, dark-skinned and dark-haired person with soft brown large eyes that were kept half closed when he was being a psychologist, and turned larger, commanding and yet inviting when he was being a magician. Both his eyes and his hands were really too expressive for a scientist’s, and he tried to be a scientist even when he was being a magician — perhaps then most of all.

Gramacy nodded. “I know a magician can duplicate almost any physical manifestation that a psychic can perform. …”

It’s really unfortunate and quite unusual that we didn’t record the session. Seth came through before I thought to remind Gramacy that he could record Seth, if Seth came through. But somehow in my mind at least, not recording that session added to it’s magical quality … the spontaneous psychological or psychic transformation came and went … We were sitting at the living-room table with the lamplight clear on my face; Gramacy could follow Seth’s psychological passage; see my features change, taking on ever so subtly those other contours. And Seth’s voice was jovial, booming, you didn’t have to strain to hear those words. There was no prepared message either. We hadn’t known that Gramacy was a scientist until he told us that night, and it was as a magician rather than as a scientist that Seth addressed him, telling him to trust his dramatic and imaginative flair.

Of Master Magicians
whose conjurings
feature the amazing tricks
of space and time,
produced so skillfully
and fast
that we’re dazzled with
the effects,
and miss the magical
slights of hand
beneath
the flashy gestures
of the days and nights.

What magicians we all are,
turning darkness into light,
transforming invisible atoms
into the dazzling theater
of the world,
pulling objects,
(people as well
as rabbits)
out of secret
microscopic closets,
turning winter into summer,
making a palmful of moments
disappear through time’s trap door.

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?

[...] He suffered from the attacks of “magicians” who were stealing his energy: “Plates” of energy were being stripped away from his chest in layers, until he feared his inner self would be exposed. [...]

[...] Far from living a colorless life, he wanders through the country, in the midst of an exciting psychic chase, pursued by magicians, evil powers, and the most sophisticated weaponry of giant corporations and the government. [...]

I had two illegitimate children (laughter), a mistress that sneaked into my private studies, a magician that I kept in case I did not do too well on my own, a housekeeper who was pregnant every year that I had her, and three daughters who joined a nunnery because I would not have them, and I am referred to in barely three paltry lines, for my reign did not last very long. [...]

Here you find stories of black magicians; and, once more, age enters in so that the legends of the wise old man or woman rise into folklore. [...]

You are like magicians, indeed, pulling white rabbits out of hats.

[...] They were in their collective way like magicians, producing wonders out of the clear air, stunning you with their charming smiles and manners, trying to win you over to some strange cause.

(Long pause.) As creative people, and as certain kinds of creative people —not being audience performers as musicians, for example—you deal with the creative construction of artistic worlds in which as your friend (painter) William Alexander would say, you are the master magician perhaps—but it is your world primarily, created according to your vision. [...]

(“I had two illegitimate children [class laughter], a mistress that sneaked into my private study, a magician that I kept in case I did not do too well on my own, a housekeeper who was pregnant every year that I had her, and three daughters who joined a nunnery because I would not have them — and I am referred to in barely three paltry lines, for my reign did not last very long.

It is however most unfortunate that intelligent men will not listen to intelligent and sane and illuminating data without requiring such magician’s tricks as this. [...]