“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] People who are not writers or artists, or poets or musicians, often suddenly find themselves almost transformed for a brief period of time — suddenly struck by a poem or a song or a snatch of music, or by a sketch — that seems to come from nowhere, that seems to emerge outside of the context of usual thought patterns, and that brings with it an understanding, a joy, a compassion, or an artistic bent that seemingly did not exist a moment earlier. [...]

Now, what would that extreme behavior consist of “at its worst?” He felt that if he were a person given to extremes, then to use his abilities he must apply due discipline so that his head was not turned, so that he did not become a victim of fame, as many other writers and artists did—or so it seemed. [...]

(The session was witnessed by writer Richard Bach and his editor, Eleanor Friede. [...]

[...] Ruburt, being an excellent writer, certainly does not feel at the mercy of all of those unknown, uncounted hours spent in childhood writing poetry—so it is only your frame of reference that makes the former statement appear to be true. [...]

He is particularly susceptible along the lines of his work because he felt from childhood that his ability was the only thing that made him lovable at all in his mother’s eyes, and that his entire worth as a human being was dependent upon how he made out as a writer.

The writer is put up with if books result in either fame or fortune. [...]

If he is not able to see himself at all times as a successful, earning writer, then he feels like a fool in other areas also, and is suddenly enraged over situations at the gallery which, while not the best, hardly bother him at all when he is selling his writing.

[...] [Sue is a writer also, and knows about things like manuscripts.] Then by the time this 806th session came about, Jane estimated that she was practically through with the first handwritten draft of James. [...]

[...] In your society writers need publishing houses. [...]

“In a magazine on parapsychology I recently read an article containing ideas that I think are at least a little more reasonable than those of creationism or evolutionism: Though the writer did take evolution for granted, he also put consciousness within matter.”

At the same time he was feeling that he would not be a great writer either, you were telling him he was using only about a tenth of his abilities, and so in both areas he was not living up to his expectations or yours, to his way of seeing. [...]

[...] Ruburt saw himself as a writer, and not as a psychic. [...]

At the same time he projected his fears upon you, thinking that you loved him only because he was a writer. [...]

No one, whether that individual is a psychic, a mystic, a writer, a poet, or even if he or she combines all of those qualities (as I think Jane does), can encompass all of the incredible differences within the human species. [...]

[...] Peggy is a feature writer for the local paper. [...]

([Sue Watkins:] “Writer’s cramp.”

(To Rob:) Remember the private session I gave you the night before last, in which I told you that you could have developed very well as a sportsman⁷ — considering the athletic qualities involved — instead of as an artist or writer. [...]

[...] I’d always trusted myself as a writer. [...]

To a lesser degree, you function along these lines in varying roles when you exist simultaneously as a member of a family, a community and a nation and as an artist or writer. [...]

[...] There were always two faces to his endeavors—the private search for understanding, and the public expression as a writer. [...]

The gentleman who wrote you from Canada (Vincent Vycinas)—the writer—is living out his cultural agony. [...]