“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

If a dark angry mongrel follows you down the street and you know it and you say to yourself, “It is a fine day and I am alone and there is no dog behind me,” and it yaps at your feet and you say, “It is a lovely day and no dog yaps at my feet,” and it growls at your ankles and you run as fast as you can saying all the time, “Nothing chases me,” and you dare not look back; then in your mind the dog springs from a dog to a tiger, to an unnamable terror. [...]

[...] Opening off the road to the left like a series of steps are short, level sidestreets upon which I often run late at night. In the beginning the running helped me physically handle my grief over Jane’s passing; I cried often as I ran, and tried to comprehend where she is now. [...] After her death I could run nightly if I chose to. [...]

[...] It has finally come to me that the dark tunnels of those streets I run on, with their mysterious implications of the unknown, and the fear of the dark that such streets can generate, are physically oriented metaphors for the transition Jane has made to another reality. [...]

(I went out to the parking lot to run up the car at 5:00, it was so cold. [...]

[...] You are running ahead of yourself.

(Long pause at 9:52.) It might seem in the short run that drugs and medicines are a great value—and they can indeed be extremely helpful. [...]

[...] It is not safe to eat, or it is not safe to stop eating, or it is not safe to run. [...]

[...] Our clock on the TV had stopped running at 4:00, so when I reset it we found out it was half an hour later than we’d thought. [...]

(However, I’ve also discovered that I’ll have to watch my time if I want to get anything done—for “time” can slip away like smoke as I do chores, help nurses take care of Jane, or cook meals or take care of the cats or run errands. [...]

“It is not time for you to run willy-nilly, looking for truth in any treetop. [...]

[...] So far we have run across very few priests, and no one else who lived in Atlantis.)

[...] She had been running from medium to medium, trying to contact the boy. [...]

[...] So if we miss a day, we run a chance of missing out on a particularly effective day for suggestion. [...]

[...] The comments run the gamut from scorn to approval, and tell us as much about their author as they do about Jane’s book. [...]

[...] Jane said she saw within a small round object, with horizontal lines running across it; she thought of a postmark on an envelope, with the cancellation lines, but knew this wasn’t it. [...]

[...] Any healing brought about from the outside may be advantageous in the short run, and I would be only too willing to help in a situation involving illness, particularly of a serious variety, even though the advantages of my help would be surface ones.

[...] You have learned something from this illness, and you will be stronger for it, but you would not have learned it if it had not run its course, and if you had not faced the reason behind it.

[...] I don’t think of such sessions running indefinitely—perhaps three weeks or a month at the most.

[...] “But I’m running into trouble coping with this thing,” I told her, “and I need your help. [...]

[...] Now once again he began to run after Jane. [...]

[...] On the other side of the highway runs the Chemung River. [...]

[...] If it rains you can stay inside, run naked between the raindrops, wear galoshes and carry an umbrella, take a cab, or be so involved in your own activities that you are not even aware that it is raining at all, and the same applies to inclement psychological climates. [...]

[...] At any point in the exercise, for it can happen at any stage, you will suddenly feel the you of you, the center identity that runs through all the selves of which you have been part. [...]

The child would not be run over by a car, for example, or pick up diseases from other children in school when he grew. [...]

(I should also note that when I met Curt at the lumberyard I never really got to talk much with him, because I was so busy running down parts and asking clerks for help. [...]

[...] This statue, with the row houses to the left and the street light: Following around the curve to the left you run into a better sectioned area, up a hill on a broad street now, then the street curves again to the left, and beneath it are rocks, that is, a rocky ledge down to the sea, I believe. [...]

[...] However I consider it best that you do not let it run too long.

(To Sally.) I have also been over here but we have a very scary soul indeed for she runs the other way. [...]