“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] This in turn led to Bill’s telling of some very vivid and upsetting dreams he had been having in recent days; in these dreams his bedroom had seemed to be peopled by apparitions or strangers, he said, entirely unfamiliar to him. [...]

9. Yet R.’s work as painter may be greater than either of us know, so on the other hand I feel he should hang onto them, rather than scatter his work, put them in one large room—bedroom?—to show them off well and sell them at high prices; he doesn’t sell many now anyhow and his prices may reflect his ideas of art value in society. [...]

[...] Yet working with the pendulum in the bedroom at 12:30 AM last night, she said she still wanted the book published—and therein lay at least one source of much trouble, I thought and said. [...]

[...] The room was lit by a candle within three feet of us on another table, and by reflected light from the kitchen on one side of the living room, and from the bedroom on the other side. [...]

[...] You may if your prefer close your bedroom door you see, neatly dividing your apartment in half during working hours. [...]

(The session was held in our old bedroom, which, having been cleared out now, is an adjunct to my studio. [...]

[...] The bedroom was so chilly that I finally finished my notes in the warmer living room. [...]

[...] I saw very clearly the front upstairs bedroom in which he slept, and the bed in which he died as a boy of 9. I made a very quick sketch of this mental picture with a ballpoint pen. [...]

[...] They were sitting no more than 30 feet away; our bedroom being at the back of our apartment, on the second floor.

[...] 8 Jane had a dream in which she saw a strange room, not a bedroom although there was a bed in it. [...]

[...] At 9:55 I turned the radio off in the front room where I was working, and leaving the doors open between the front room and the bedroom, I lay down.

At the time, we were having sessions in the bedroom, which is small, with one window looking out on the large yard. [...]

[...] I set the alarm clock, lay down in the bedroom, closed my eyes and relaxed without giving myself any suggestions except that for complete relaxation. [...]

“A terrific little dream that beautifully states its message: Mary’s ideas of romance and making love (represented by modern-day flowered sheets) are being transposed from the bedroom into the area of her art, and in a way that mars the art itself. [...]

[...] My bedroom window was only about 15 feet away from my parents’ apt. [...]

[...] Our landlord, Jimmy Spaziani, had told us that the entire apartment had been the master-bedroom complex of the wealthy merchant who had built the house for his family more than a century ago. The kitchen with its three tiny windows near the front of the house had been a closet; the three bay windows of the living room where Jane had held the sessions and her ESP class had been the main bedroom. [...] Then comes a smaller room that we had used as a bedroom, with one window in the back wall of the house. [...]

[...] It surrounded our bedroom—but even as bleary as I often was, I became acutely aware of how that serenity could be jarringly compromised by the television set, showing programs that contained their own times of day and seasons.

[...] In the first house the stairs to the second floor were purposely steep, and never altered, because no one was invited to view the private family bedrooms. [...]

[...] They were in the bedroom, your mother and your father. [...]

Now we think of an episode—I will avoid the word affair—a particular episode occurring a while back in connection with Philip’s daughter, in her bedroom or by her bed. [...]