“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] I’ve come through this evening in any case simply as a friend. [...]

([Theodore:] “He talked some more about physical matter—and elaboration on the things we’ve talked about during the evening. [...]

[...] The difficulty in understanding this principle is due to the fact that we’ve taken it for granted that the image and sound already exist for the senses to interpret. [...]

[...] “I’ve got outlines for three novels, and none of them really please me,” I said.

[...] I’ve never done anything but fiction and poetry in my life.”

[...] Besides, the books we’ve seen have dealt only with well-known mediums. [...]

[...] “They were on the telephone—why it bothers us and why we’ve been turning it down so much lately—but he decided to let us make up our own minds about it. [...]

(“I’m afraid, Seth, that all the questions we’ve got written down here are rather serious. [...]

I have to admit that you’ve lost me completely. [...]

[...] I do not have the voice of an angel by any means, but neither do I sound like an asexual eunuch, which is all I’ve been able to make her sound like all night. [...]

[...] I know you’re tired but I’ve really enjoyed myself at your expense. [...]

[...] It had been raining then, too, on that day last March — and as I wrote at the time, in some half-romantic fashion I’ve hooked up the flights of geese with Jane’s and my work on the Seth books. I’m still surprised that I’ve done so, for whatever reasons; but we’re ready to dig in for a winter’s work.

(Following the conference with her editor late in June, Jane has devoted herself to finishing her manuscript for Adventures, while I’ve worked steadily on the diagrams for it, as well as on the drawings for Dialogues. [...]

[...] To some degree I’ve been involved in many changes of belief also, but I’m a participator in the development of the Seth Material, not its originator; the pressures and challenges weren’t — aren’t — as demanding. [...]

[...] Now I can add that at the time Jane actually wrote two poems on dreaming; I’ve been saving the second one for use in Volume 2.

[...] I wish I could put this into words; but you’ve got to realize that events outside the body are the same events as those inside the body — the behavior of its neurons and all of its chemical activities … and because inside and outside are so beautifully synchronized, everything will always agree.

[...] But I’ve got to get back to the session….

[...] When she picked it up she said, staring, “It’s almost as if you’ve got to choose between biting into the sandwich, your hand that holds it, or your knee beneath the hand — not because you’re disoriented but because everything’s all one. [...]

([Sheri:] “I must express to you how much I love you and say thank you for all that you’ve done for all of us.”

([Rick:] Seth, this is a little changing the subject just a bit, but I’ve been very interested about your comments about the dream art scientists and mental physicists as being some of the careers that I have been interested in.

([Rick:] Do you have any other suggestions that you might....because I’ve been considering this for a while.

I’ve been using the massage technique you showed us on Jane with very good results. [...]

3. Jane and I regret that we’ve deprived our guest of the protected and warm—if not natural—habitat it had chosen. [...] I don’t want to be simplistic here, but for some years I’ve been concerned that those living in large metropolitan centers miss a certain daily, vital participation in the very environment within which by far most of the life forms on earth exist. [...]

(“That’s what I’ve begun to suspect the last few days.”)

—but you made some leeway with Ruburt in your last remarks (which I’ve forgotten as I type this) and I would like him to examine his normal habits in the light of what I said about his table and arrangements. [...]

[...] In fact, we’ve had trouble keeping up with our experiences, and little time to study them. [...]

[...] Not that one is superior to another — just that we’re all connected — that there’s some kind of weird familiarity, biologically and psychically, that we’ve never gotten consciously … What I’m getting is that your father could do any of the things that you wrote about [in Note 4], without invading anything or anyone. [...]

There’s also a rather unexpected bonus: Not only is the mail being answered much more quickly, but the students involved are gaining experience in dealing with a variety of intellectual and emotional questions posed by people they’ve never met. [...]

I’ve completed finished art for only 15 of the 40 drawings planned for Dialogues, but have done extensive work on many of those remaining. [...]

[...] Then, “I’ve still got this scary feeling. Maybe I’ve just translated all the mixed-up feelings about my father and the house there and everything into Midge. I’ve got the impression that she was trying to close the door of the stove.”

(Not long after these sessions began, several years ago, Seth told Jane and me that the three of us had experienced lives in Denmark in the 1600’s. Ever since then I’ve thought my interest in the art of Western Europe for that same period, embracing the work of Rembrandt and Vermeer, Van Dyke, and Rubens, et al., more than coincidental. [...]

(I’ve painted a portrait of Van Elver, who is the fourteenth-century artist [Danish or Norwegian] from whom Seth receives information on painting techniques.^*)

[...] We’ve received little information on our past lives, preferring to wait on this endeavor for various personal reasons. [...]

[...] “I knew what I was saying when I said it, but I’ve forgotten it all now …” She paused, then continued in a way I thought somewhat unusual for her: “We’re doing the best we can with what abilities we’ve got. [...]

[...] I feel like I’ve had three or four drinks, or as though I’m in a different state of consciousness already — and here I haven’t had anything except this apricot juice …”

[...] asking yourself how many actual people I’ve met who scorned me... [...]

(10:42 P.M. I’ve indicated but a few of the many long pauses Jane took while speaking for Seth; in fact, the session had been her slowest one in many months. [...]

[...] I’ve been curious about the subject ever since.

“I’ve been getting some fascinating stuff,” Jane said as she did the supper dishes. [...]

Mischa, who was part shelty, or Shetland collie, was the last dog we’ve had. [...]

[...] She also thought of giving me the night off, by way of celebrating a bit because I’ve finished the notes for Mass Events, but I told her I’d rather keep the sessions going as long as both of us feel like it. [...]

I’ve often thought that the repetition in the Seth books, say, is nothing compared to the repeated barrages of suggestion—much of it negative—that our species has chosen to subject itself to daily. [...]

[...] They included a projection through the eastern wall of our living room, and a “visitor” who returned with her; the Latin title of a book; her awareness of a third eye; some material, with diagrams, of me as a monk who wrote manuscripts in an underground chamber that he later sealed; a vision of Seth in a brown robe, looking as I’ve painted him—but the brown robe was “too easy,” Jane said suspiciously. [...]

[...] I feel a very strong energy—as though I’ve got a great big idea—huge—and it’s got to be broken down into bits and pieces. [...]

[...] I’ve already started work on Chapter 9, out of the 11 making up the book.

[...] Jastrow thinks we’ve reached a dead end in terms of evolution. [...]