“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] I’m dancing at a swank dance floor with a younger man with dark darting eyes that now remind me of Frank Longwell, Jr. I know I’ve seen him once before and that he’s a thief. [...]

[...] Because man has such a sense of curiosity, scientists will be forced finally to use the inner senses. [...]

[...] A man can smell quite a stink, even though it is not right under his nose. [...]

Then Seth told Rob to imagine a man looking at a tree in the near distance on an ordinary street, with intervening houses and sidewalks.

Using the inner senses, it would be as if, instead of seeing the various houses, our man felt them. [...]

[...] Earlier in the evening Bill Gallagher spent perhaps three-quarters of an hour contemplating the oil painting of an elderly man which I executed in July 1965. [...]

[...] It amounted to perhaps a medium-long paragraph, and included a description of a building he would visit, its offices, and a man to whom he would apply for employment. [...]

[...] The description of the building matched, as well as the description Seth had given of the man Don would talk to about work. [...]

When man objectified energy he became frightened of it. [...] That exteriorized concept is a symbol for man’s fear of his own inner energy. [...]

[...] So is the man who wrote the book (Powers of Mind)—Adam Smith—interpreting in the only way he could for others who will later be led to read other books—that is, he helps awaken hunger.

(Louder, when I asked Seth to repeat a phrase:) I believe that man runs the mile much quicker now (by about 12 seconds) than he did, say, thirty years ago. [...]

[...] Man recognized the importance of groups after observing the animals’ cooperation. [...]

[...] The urge to be came from within, and that urge is repeated to some extent in each impulse, each urge toward action on the part of man or molecule. [...]

[...] The child is indeed still within the man, but he is not the child that once was, in those terms. For even the child within the man continually changes, and again I am not speaking of symbolic change.

[...] Jane and I have made a few sporadic attempts to learn more about Frank Watts; such a man did live in Elmira, we learned, through a resident who knew him. [...]

[...] A murdered man will not be returned to physical life in the same fashion, whole and intact, as he was before the murder, for example; for he has been taken out of the particular system of action of which we are speaking.

(It will be recalled that in the 68th session, page 221, in relation to Bill’s projected trip, Seth had stated that he saw Bill meeting an older man “with prickly hair,” and that he saw a rowboat with a symbol on it. An older man and a boat both are mentioned above, and when Bill returns from Provincetown, Cape Cod, which is indeed on the ocean, it will be interesting to compare Seth’s material with what Bill actually saw and/or did.

You will see that in the first mentioned examples the effect would be created by man in line with his abilities, and in the latter examples the effects would be created in some instances by what is sometimes called dead matter, but what we know as other forms of consciousness, according to their ability.

A man, for example, at various stages of his life may always be surrounded by books or fishing tackle, or a city or a countryside. [...]

(Beside the girl’s portrait sat another small portrait of a man which I’d also finished this year, early. [...] In this portrait the man looks off to one side—yet those eyes too were on the point of moving. [...]

No man or woman consciously knows for sure which day will be the last for him or her in this particular life, that each calls the present one. [...]

[...] Unconsciously of course each man and woman knows, and yet hides the knowledge.

Luckily, the disease will run its course as sociological conditions change, and as man’s inhumanity to man becomes clear even to the most prejudiced.

[...] There are genetic cultures operating, then, of literally infinite variety (intently), and they each have their place and their reason, and they each fit into the overall picture—not only of man’s reality but of the planet’s reality, including all of nature.

The species is also always in the process of keeping within its genetic bank millions of characteristics that might be needed in various contingencies, and in that regard there is a connection, of course, between, say, viruses of many strains and the health not only of man but of other species.

[...] This was the one you sold, of the man that hung for some time in the position in which my portrait now hangs. [...]

[...] And yet we wanted a balance also, and so you stand as a man who intuitively recognized the value of inner information and the importance of the material, even though you were unacquainted with such ideas.

A gray-haired man telling a story. [...]

[...] As an analogy, this would be as if you lived, say, the life of a rich man of great talent, the life of a poor man and the life of a mother and career woman. [...]

[...] At once I realize that somewhere — I don’t understand where — Carl does not own a cycle and that the two of us are man and wife, and have a baby. [...]

[...] One ‘man’ and I walk to a complex of offices. [...]

[...] ‘What are you doing here?’ I exclaim, and the ‘man’ explains that the connection touched physical reality in several places. [...]

[...] (Intently:) A black man who accepts the same system is indeed in difficulty. If he happens to be a poor black man he is in double jeopardy.

Ideas of the “wise old man,” and similar legends apply here, as do the mystical concepts of the powerful old woman. [...]

Your work, in any case, is the interpretation of reality through your own experience, providing a new and creative view of man and the universe. [...] It has always been your individual and joint search —a private determination to glimpse what you could of the nature of man, that was not glimpsed before.

The older man was the one you saw. [...]

(“Seth, can you tell us the meaning of the vision I had the other night, in which I saw a man walking?”

[...] The man was a monk on a pilgrimage.

(The ink sketch I did more than a year ago represents man bound by his senses, yet peering out through the wires trying to see more.

[...] (Jane stood up and hunted for a cigarette while she spoke.) You live together as man and wife. [...]

[...] This is why you did not marry young, Joseph, and why Ruburt first chose a man in whom he was not sexually interested. [...]

[...] These communications are not important because they are mine, nor because they come through you, but because they are messages from other dimensions, telling man of his own nature.

[...] In making such statements I am not personifying the cell, for the desire for communication and motion does not belong to man, or even animals, alone. Man’s desire to journey into other worlds is in its way as natural as the plant’s urge to turn its leaves toward the sun.

Man’s physical world, with all of its civilizations and cultural aspects, and even with its technologies and sciences, basically represents the species’ innate drive to communicate, to move outward, to create, and to objectify sensed inner realities. [...]

[...] Man’s abilities in this respect are far more complicated, for in his imagination he deals with probabilities. [...]

[...] Jane likened it to perhaps the trembling of an old man’s chin, and this is in character with the old man’s voice we heard. [...]

[...] I can say the voice sounded more like an old man’s voice, and not much like either Jane’s voice or the usual Seth voice. [...]

(Tonight then, Jane manifested three different voices while in trance: the regular Seth voice, somewhat strong, very clear and concise, the one we are so used to; next the light and lilting voice with Jane’s own mannerisms overlying Seth who hovers just below; and finally the muffled, masculine old man’s voice, so different from any produced before this.)