“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] Am I bothering you?” and Ruburt smiles sweetly and says “No, that is fine,” then Frank is faced with Ruburt’s smiling countenance, while his intuitions tell him something else entirely.

Now, before I let my friends very sweetly and nicely rush to my defense, let me mention that Ruburt also when classes began, made an effort, as our friend over here remembers, to give spontaneous readings which worked very well. [...]

Sweet creatures are difficult to find.

[...] In a recent session Seth had remarked that Billy was “a sweet creature.” [...]

[...] They would much prefer to think of him (Ruburt) as a sweet, passive, and spiritual channel—the figurative phone booth. [...]

Now, you squeeze the great fruit of your selfhood into a tiny uneasy pulp, unaware of the sweetness of its juices or the variety of its seasons. [...]

[...] However, my dear distortive and naughty Ruburt here not only put words into my mouth, unconsciously of course, but then said sweetly that they were not distortions.

[...] Sweet tootsies, there is no beginning or end, and this idea of yours is the result of a complete and utter concentration upon camouflage time.

[...] It can be tart or sweet. [...]

Your isolation during working hours becomes even more precious and more constructive when contrasted with periods given to friends, as sweet is sweeter when bitter is on the tongue. [...]

[...] In the opening notes for that session, I quoted her as writing on December 7: “I do feel a blockage of expression; my ass hurts typing—a sweet soreness of joints I sit on that brings tears briefly; yet it is a stretching sensation.” [...]

Sweet is the depth

[...] I’ll make out / but hurry— /
go while the tide / is full and take /
advantage of its motion, / to which I’ll add /
all of mine / I can afford to lend. / Let yourself be carried
where the flesh / in its sweet cowardice / would be afraid to
follow.’ / And so I did.”

[...] “I do feel a blockage of expression; my ass hurts typing—a sweet soreness of joints I sit on that brings tears briefly; yet it is a stretching sensation, same right arm. [...]

(From the ESP class session for February 16, 1971:) I [come through so forcefully] for several reasons: because that is the way I am, in the guise that I choose to use in my communications, and to get everyone over the idea that so-called spirits must be sweet-faced, quiet, sober, and dignified. [...]