“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

This is a very pleasant little session and very enjoyable for a change. For heaven’s sake, Ruburt, get yourself a match. The suspension and suspense is killing me. Will she or won’t she light that cigarette? Please find a match.

You must remember that the outer senses react to camouflage pattern. The statue actually imprisons vitality more than a painting or musical composition or poem, because it is bound to you by so many ties. I meant to make this plain earlier. I won’t keep you any longer, lest you grow impatient with me tomorrow. At all costs I don’t want to wear out my welcome.

There, you two chickadees, good night for now. If you want, I’ll subtract an hour from tomorrow’s session, but I hope you won’t be that picayune.

(“No, we won’t.”)

Something about the third man who could possibly be in control or something—definitely won’t be. [...]

[...] “I’m afraid I won’t be able to get into it, or if I do he won’t have anything to say.... [...]

[...] I probably won’t call Dr. Kardon or the hospital tomorrow, but will simply wait for nature to take its course, since except for the movement in the knees—which hasn’t increased—it’s been all bad, so the general outcome for the future is all but inevitable. [...]

[...] I think if I get well I won’t buckle down to work on Mass Reality.

(3. My side hurts because I’m afraid Volume 2 of “Unknown” Reality won’t be appreciated.

(My side hurts because I’m afraid all of Jane’s work won’t be—and isn’t—appreciated. [...]

New paragraph: Your wars are fought, lost or won in the dream world first of all, and your physical rendition of history follows the thin line of only one series of probabilities. To you a given war was either lost or won by a particular side. [...]

[...] Actually, though, we won’t have any extra time; the finished manuscript of this book is due at Prentice-Hall in October, and will require much work in order to get it done by then. [...]

[...] “I probably won’t have more than a sentence or two.”)

[...] A war won here, with a treaty, is not won somewhere else, and there is a different treaty. Even wars seemingly won here are not nearly as clear-cut as would appear; you make history as you go along. [...]

[...] I could go right to bed, but I won’t....”

[...] “Here you won’t go to the marketplace, but you think of saving all of these private sessions for posterity, to give them to the world. [...]

[...] I could go right to bed, but I won’t….”

[...] Here you won’t go to the marketplace, but you think of saving all of these private sessions for posterity, to give them to the world some day. [...]

[...] and my news won’t be big enough to justify it? [...]

[...] Earlier caught myself stewing over my windows new room being accessible that is, noticeable; then cleared that up saying that Frank, etc., will be gone; phone book won’t have address; winter coming—but if I have to, I’ll lock the screen door or put up a note working hours no guests; but anyhow I’ll make conscious decisions and take steps. [...]

[...] There’s no reason, now, to think we won’t learn of more. [...]

[...] The gains that seem to be won will end in the violence of those who bring them about. [...]

[...] I know one thing: Seth’s delivery won’t be soon forgotten. [...]

[...] “That doesn’t mean that when you get it all typed up I won’t want to add to it. [...]

[...] He gets chemotherapy tomorrow, so I won’t see him until the next day. [...]

[...] This means I won’t get to save them, since I have to estimate how much of each food she eats so dietary can figure the calories involved. [...]

[...] If the arms can do what they’re doing, there’s no reason why such improvements won’t show up in the legs. [...]

[...] Sometimes you won out, and you did more often than not, and even when you seemingly failed you put the knowledge to use. [...]

[...] When there’s someone here that I don’t like, or they turn me off for some reason, then we won’t have a session — the material won’t come through. [...]