“How do you travel?”
“Like lightning, or even more swiftly. We think of a place and in the same instant we are there. This is a thought world. So is yours, but you are blind to the power of thought on your plane.”
“Are you affected by the sorrows and pains of those you love, who are still on earth?”
“We cannot help feeling the troubles of earth when they touch what you would call our heart-strings. But, as it were, we see with larger eyes—we understand better the purpose of suffering and the good that comes out of it.”
A friend to Cartice who had achieved considerable eminence as an analytical author, came occasionally. In the noonday of success she went away, after months of great physical suffering. When asked whether she was happy, she replied:
“It is happiness to me to have no aching heart, no pain, no burning brow.”
“Can you come to us when you please?”
“Sometimes only, not always. I feel a restraint, though no restraint seems put upon me.”
“How do you occupy yourself, Edith?”
“We do not have to occupy ourselves. We are occupied by others only. I cannot tell you better.”