“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Awaken from this, shouting for help. Forget start. On a nighttime street in a city, maybe New York, a shot rings out. I may possibly be a policeman but am myself too. I run into a nearby store where a very young man is shooting —robbery in progress maybe. I lunge for him, chase him to street. He keeps shooting. I lunge again, grab his arm. He begins to disintegrate until he’s just a hulk of a hand, shooting the gun at me, which now I’m holding—since his body is gone. I know this refers to the belief in man’s sinful nature or deadly intent; when you believe that you end up with the assailant’s hand your own. You shoot yourself down....

[...] She woke me up crying at 4 AM, with flashing, shooting sensations in her right leg, from the hip all the way down to the foot. [...]

[...] The hot, shooting sensations continued in her right leg, though to a lesser degree. [...]

[...] she said—and winced as another shooting sensation “got me right in the knee. [...]

and shoot into fragments,

of mystery that go shooting off

Remind him that all his nature does indeed work to his benefit, and that signs of creative alterations and feeling begin to surface, like tiny shoots.

[...] You do not need to shoot them down. [...]

[...] The police were shooting down the starlings that always nested in the treetops. [...]

If there’s anything I like to see
It’s a bunch of pudgy God-fearing grown men at it again,
Shooting down the starlings.
I mean, crazy man. [...]

The idiot cries.
The tears slosh inside his boots.
The people say he’s bats
Because he weeps
When the police shoot down the starlings
Aiming at the tall-eyed trees.

[...] She said she felt that when she stood up she would shoot ahead through the wall—shoot straight ahead—she felt a great energy about her, and wondered about her physical control. [...]

[...] These are in your terms, excesses of energy that shoot out from you like stars  but coalesce into a shape and a form. [...]

[...] The few times the craft shoots off at right angles, it has managed to retain functions ordinary to it in its particular habitat.

[...] The volcano learns a new lesson: It can direct its power in whatever way it chooses, shooting upward or lying quietly. [...]

[...] It can shoot into the heavens in great displays, or creep into the tiny crevices of earth, equally powerful.”

[...] He started to whimper and to cry when he knew that he had his home and his family to protect and he didn’t do it, and I had crying kids and I didn’t need a crying husband because the older kids could shoot much better than their father because he didn’t know how to pull the trigger. [...]

[...] I will be like a pied piper leading all of you in a toottoottoot and no one will shoot us down. [...]

You do not simply have, say, one past self, or one future self, but many— for your consciousness shoots out, so to speak, in all directions “faster than the speed of light.”

[...] It begins to respond in that manner before the shoot emerges.

The shoot does not simply react to the direction from which the sun shines, but senses this far before, and the seed sensitizes itself “ahead of time” to those conditions. [...]

[...] It does not dare shoot a straight line. [...]

[...] So that that flow does not dry up when it does not operate as fully as it ordinarily can in our own sessions, then it shoots up and appears in class sessions, as a precaution and simply because the fountainhead as such will not dry up, but seeks its natural release. [...]

[...] Ruburt’s vehement anger over something that seems perhaps much more trivial, the death by shooting of the starlings, is a case in point.

[...] The people at the newspaper were quite surprised to learn the police were shooting birds. [...]

[...] Recently Jane and I found it the height of irony that Begin and Sadat were jointly awarded the Nobel Peace Prize—evidently, we sarcastically concluded, because after thirty years of fighting Israel and Egypt weren’t shooting at each other—at least for the moment.

(Part of the session grew out of our recent reactions to the televised newscasts, as well as what we’ve been reading lately, concerning the mass suicide in Guyana, the shooting of the mayor of San Francisco, problems with inflation, the Middle East —any of what seemed to be an infinite number of ills the species has created for itself. [...]

[...] She has been sleeping pretty well for the most part these days, but has had a great deal of soreness in her arms [and some spontaneous jerking movements accompanied by shooting pains; it seems the arms are lengthening somewhat]. [...]

[...] This is a very loose analogy, but he is hoping to shoot himself toward you like an arrow, hoping that those correspondences that he suspects will help draw him to you. [...]