“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] The Taylor’s cat began playing with our cat, Willy, and we had no trouble steering the conversation into safer channels. [...]

[...] “I wish we’d called this one Willy, but I know that’s all superstitious nonsense.”

[...] Both sides brought to bear emotional issues from the past that served to illustrate or strengthen their own position, so that Ruburt was pulled willy-nilly.

[...] As she did, our cat Willy behaved in a most strange fashion. He had been sleeping on the couch but as Jane rose to begin Willy leaped down to the floor. [...]

Rooney even learned to be on terms with another cat; Willy, your older cat, in his way served as mentor.

[...] Then when she came out of trance again, Jane said, “He’s got stuff on Willy, too,” but she was tiring. [...]

(Our cat, Willy Two — or Billy — had been sleeping beside me on the couch. [...]

(Willy kept bugging me as I tried to make notes for this session—sitting as he does close to me on the couch, wanting to stare at me and be petted at the same time, while I try to accomplish something. [...]

(At the start of the session our cat Willy became very frisky. As we sat at the board preparatory to greeting Seth, Willy jumped up on it; from there he vaulted up on the bookcase, knocking the sketch to the floor. [...]

[...] Our 16-year-old cat, Willy, died early in November, and two days later we obtained a kitten, Willy Two (or Billy, as we soon came to call him), from an area humane society. [...]

[...] (Loudly, then whispering so softly that I could barely hear:) This book will, then, be devoted to the nature of the great sweeping emotional, religious, or biological events that often seem to engulf the individual, or to lift him or her willy-nilly in their power.

(“Seth, is our cat Willy aware of your presence with us, now? [...]

(As she delivered Seth’s answer, Jane walked over to the couch and picked up the dozing Willy. [...]

[...] We had forgotten to put our cat, Willy, in another room before the session. [...]

[...] Our cat, Willy, woke up and insisted upon climbing into Jane’s lap as she sat in trance. [...]

[...] Seth’s remarks about Willy Two, or Billy, as we sometimes call him now, were obviously made in response to the funny annoyance we’d felt before the session, when the kitten had been in great form; jumping all over the furniture, pawing at the curtains — as well as Jane and me — getting in our papers, and so forth.)

[...] Our cat, Willie, now became active. [...]

From my studio at the back of the apartment came Willie’s cry. [...]

[...] It was brought on because our cat Willy, decided to jump up in Jane’s lap as she spoke in trance. [...]

(It might also be noted that Willy, our cat, jumped up on Jane’s lap a minute or two before the session began. Jane said it was the first time in all of the sessions that Willy had done so; evidently, if he sensed Seth’s presence, he was not perturbed.)

[...] It seemed to him, with the force of old beliefs, that Ida, Richard and the children were indeed driven willy-nilly by contradictory impulses, and that their lives lack any organizing inner purpose.

[...] Our cat, Willy, jumped up into her lap. [...]

[...] Your young brother (William, 9 years younger) never set up adequate defenses, so that his own mood swung, willy-nilly, as the psychic climate varied.

[...] It must not be a willy-nilly trial, a one-or-two day affair, but a wholehearted plunge into whatever approach you choose, and you should also follow the suggestions given later concerning time and your attitude. [...]