“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] We attended because I had won the portrait award, and had to have my picture taken there, with the other award winners. [...]

[...] I put up with that conflict and do poetry anyhow now and then; sloppy thinking in here and feel Tam won’t really go for poetry.

A note: Just as he periodically reminds us of his material-to-come on physical aging and out-of-body states (see Note 4, above), Seth mentions that there are more inner senses he’ll tell us about someday — then adds that many of them are so far removed from reality as we understand it that our comprehension will be intellectual at best; in such cases we won’t be able to identify with them emotionally. [...]

[...] [WHO won’t officially declare smallpox done away with for a year or so, while waiting to see if any new cases surface.] Or would smallpox appear again, say 10 years from now? [...]

[...] Then Jane called S. Schindler with that news; he in turn has “a list” of West Coast publishers he wants to try, evidently thinking the university press route won’t work.

[...] Each of Rob’s sketches and paintings won prizes for the doctors for whom he did them. [...]

[...] In all probability taking control of foreign rights merely means that there won’t be any. [...]

[...] I won’t take the space to describe the series of mistaken efforts I went through in producing the work, except to say that finally I came to the rather simple conscious understanding that I was trying to paint a probable Jane. [...]

“Well, it won’t hurt to write the dream down, will it?” Rob asked.

[...] He saw what could happen when beliefs are allowed to run astray, and he attacked some then quite directly, and won out. [...]

On July 23, 1980 — 13 days after I had my dream — the writer of a story in the Elmira Star-Gazette described how the Brenner family won an out-of-court settlement of over $10,000 from the Borough of Sayre and a large store owned by a well-known supermarket chain. [...]

(“Is there anything now that you’d like to say that he won’t let you say?”

[...] I won’t even request a fee. [...]

[...] How do we know it won’t happen to us?” And the comfortable room suddenly seemed a facade. [...]

[...] It is, perhaps, the same sort of trust we have when we dive into the ocean — the faith that we won’t sink. [...]

(“Why won’t you tell us?”)

[...] I won’t say hot air. [...]

1. Adventures itself won’t be published until next summer. [...]

[...] You will find that on certain evenings because of the state of your mind I will continue this material, and eventually get into Ruburt’s for he won’t escape for long.

I could say more but I won’t.