“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] Ruburt thinks of Marie or Mary. [...] The Marie or Mary is very suggestive of Marilyn.

[...] Ruburt thinks of Marie or Mary. [...]

(Jane will now write to Marie to see if Seth is correct; if not, or the data is distorted, Jane will try to learn from Marie what association she could have been involved in with water. Marie’s married name is: Marie Sterrett, of Boynton Beach, Florida.)

[...] Jane has not heard from her schoolgirl friend Marie Tubbs for some months, and if Marie was pregnant we did not know it. [...]

Now we have here, for all of your benefit, some examples, both here (Davey) and here (Mary Ellen) and here (Joel) of one particular phenomena. [...]

(To Mary Ellen.) Now of the three cases mentioned, the greatest sense of stability and peace has been reached over here. [...]

(During break a discussion of Joel’s, Mary Ellen’s and Davey’s abilities and some felt they had not progressed very much.)

[...] She did say her panicky feelings had to do with the session about her mother Marie yesterday, and a dream she’d had last night. [...] I don’t know what I’m doing,” she cried, when I asked her if she was thinking about Marie.

Jane’s mother, Marie, died in 1972.

Delmer and Marie Roberts married in March 1928. [...]

[...] And oh, yes: Rick Stack and his wife, Anne Marie O’Farrell, who’s my literary agent. I don’t know what, if anything, I’d have accomplished in carrying out Jane’s wishes without the unstinting help Anne Marie has offered in so many ways.

[...] Then I gave Pete Mary Krebs’s phone number, in Utilization Review at the hospital; she determines the level of patient care, reviews medical records, etc. [...]

[...] He’s already talked to Andrew Fife and Mary Krebs, and visited the head of the local Blue Cross office, on the floor beneath his own office. [...]

[...] It seems that as a result of the call she’d received from Pete this morning, Mary Krebs had contacted the Infirmary. [...]

[...] Ruburt now thinks of a woman and a child, and of a photograph of Marie Tubbs and a baby, in Florida… I feel we are off here, but that the connection is valid.” There is a Florida connection, and this led Seth to the Tubbs connection for our friend Marie also lives in Florida.

[...] Ruburt now thinks of a woman and child, and of a photograph of Marie Tubbs and a baby, in Florida.

[...] With the exception of an image of a photo of her schoolday friend, Marie Tubbs, Jane said she did not know if she had any images or not.

[...] Connection with Mary, or the initial M. (Pause.) I will try to designate by using the word “now” the separation between impressions.

[...] Another young woman beside his wife, with a name much like hers, this Mary connection still returning.

[...] As to her own mother, Marie, I said it was perfectly okay to admit that she didn’t succeed there, or chose to withdraw or admit failure. [...] Jane said that when he was drunk her father told her that Marie was her enemy. [...]

(When I approached the room in which I knew Marie lay in bed, crippled by arthritis, I heard Jane and her mother inside. [...] Marie was bedridden, but Jane was perfectly healthy, and had come to forgive her mother, or make up with her. [...]

In 1931 in Saratoga Springs, New York, Jane’s father, Delmer Roberts (or Del) chose to exercise the probability that he would leave his wife Marie and their daughter Jane, who was not yet three years old. Marie’s mother, Mary Finn, called Minnie, lived with the family and often served as Jane’s nanny. [...] Already Marie was showing signs of arthritis. [...] Minnie Finn was killed by a hit-and-run speeding motorist one icy winter day on her way to the corner store to buy the young girl some shredded wheat for supper—a tragedy that Marie never stopped blaming her daughter for. [...] They took care of Marie’s physical needs—tasks that in her later teens Jane would often take care of herself. With welfare’s help Marie set up a telephone answering service for local doctors that she ran from her bed. [...]

During this time also Jane’s mother, Marie, lost her home in Saratoga Springs, NY, and was placed in a state-run nursing home in nearby Middle Grove. [...] Jane never told Marie about the Seth material, or her symptoms. Marie even accepted me as her daughter’s husband. [...] Marie always sent her daughter sweaters that she had knitted with great difficulty because of her misshapen fingers; invariably the garments were too large. [...] Mother and daughter were to never meet again: Marie died shortly before 1975. [...]

[...] The connections involving her mother’s bedridden condition and her tempestuous temper, including her suicide attempts, both faked and real, troubles with a succession of housekeepers, the lack of a father, the almost two years she spent in a Catholic orphanage while Marie was hospitalized, the death of her beloved grandfather, the whole strained atmosphere within which the gifted and impressionable child was growing, as well as her conflicts with church dogma and personalities, had, all together, powerful effects indeed. [...] The first time, Marie cursed me from her bed; the next two times she ignored me.

[...] She left the church when she was 19, despite Marie’s bitter objections.

Our books continued to go out of print, and in 1990 I began working with Anne Marie O’Farrell, a literary agent. [...] Without Anne Marie’s untiring help, I question whether I’d still be in publishing. [...]

[...] (As Seth, Jane looked at the couch, where Mary and Art were sitting.) I look now between the two of you. [...]

(To Mary and Art): You each generally agree, I am sure, that you sit upon a couch. [...]

(To Mary Ellen) What is your question? [...]

([Mary Ellen:] “Not all the people that you meet in the dream state are Sumari, right? [...]

(Mary Ellen:] “I knew it. [...]

[...] When Fred came into 330 Georgia had told Mary Ann about it, and Mary Ann pointed it out to Fred. [...]

[...] I told her I’d talked with Mary Newman this morning, boosted our insurance coverage, and called Jim Baker, our optometrist. [...]

[...] When Marie had been making noise, involved in noisy activities, Jane had felt much better, safer. 2. This insight led Jane to an obvious one neither of us had ever made before: that when she gets a letter in which the writer threatens suicide if Jane doesn’t help him or her, this is like Marie threatening the young Jane that she will commit suicide.)

Mary came because she was full of sorrow for the man who believed he was her son. [...]

[...] Mary Magdalene did see Christ, however, immediately after (see Matthew 28). [...]

In a very simplified summary from Rich Bed: Jane was the only child of Marie Burdo and Delmer Roberts. [...] With her daughter, the young Marie then returned to her own parents, and the home that the family had rented for a number of years: half of a double dwelling in a poor neighborhood in Saratoga Springs, N.Y. Marie began experiencing the early stages of rheumatoid arthritis, but worked as much as possible.

[...] It was taken by an older lady friend who was treating her to an outing at a spa just outside of the New York State resort of Saratoga Springs, where Jane lived with her bedridden mother, Marie, and a housekeeper. [...]

[...] By then Marie was partially incapacitated, and the Welfare Department began to furnish mother and daughter with occasional (and often unreliable) domestic help. [...]