“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] And take care that you look out of the windows now and then, lest you all go sailing past West Water Street. [...]

[...] A place of relative privacy, and yet one in which you would not be unknown or isolated, one in which in fact the 458 West Water Street connections would continue to operate, with Paul of course as mediator. [...]

What so many want is a god who walks down the street and says “Happy Sunday, I am I, follow Me.” [...]

[...] What so many want is a God who walks down the street and says, “Happy Sunday, I am I, follow me.” [...]

[...] A woman is shot down in the street. [...]

A connection with a shaded street. [...]

(“A connection with a shaded street. [...]

[...] And there were days in other centuries that I walked the same streets that I had walked as Pope. I touched these streets lightly as Pope; but as a peasant I walked with a heavy foot and great weight, until I learned the lessons that I had to learn, as all of you will also learn your own lessons.”

[...] When he walks now on the streets, he should keep the mental image just given in his mind, picturing the whole flexible and fleet image, and the inner self will take steps to see that the suitable adjustments are made. [...]

[...] A man walked out into the street and was killed by a falling brick. [...]

[...] It may be replaced by a street urchin, obviously poor and from another century. [...]

[...] Again, in Framework 2 each event is known, from the falling of a leaf to the falling of a star, from the smallest insect’s experience on a summer day to the horrendous murder of an individual on a city street. [...]

[...] Thus Jane began speaking in a voice quite a bit stronger than usual, evidently to counter the constant street noise. [...]

[...] There is no building immediately outside of them, but grass and street or a courtyard.

[...] Imagine a man standing on a typical street of houses and grass and trees. [...]

[...] She told me how a traffic light was installed at the corner of Lake Street and Nelson Avenue, as a result of the suit Marie won against the city, concerning her grandmother’s death. [...]

[...] He is afraid, literally, walking the streets of Saratoga, sneaking in and out when he visits. [...]

[...] With sirens screeching several cars and trucks sped past on Walnut Street, two doors away. [...]

looking down again at the rainy street.

(The house in question, one of those decaying turn-of-the century Victorian piles, had squatted on the corner diagonally across the street from us. [...]

[...] You may say, “I was born in a house on a certain street in a certain town, and no present belief to the contrary will change that fact.” [...]

[...] the one in which I’m kneeling at the kitchen storm door and thrusting my hand through the glass to touch Gus, the dog who belongs to our neighbors across the street. [...]

You might stand alone in your doorway, or in a field — or even on a street, surrounded by many people in a large city — look upward, suddenly struck by the great sweeping clouds above, and feel yourself a part of them. [...]