“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] He is trying so hard that he bends over backwards to be honest, and if you will forgive me, Frank.

[...] So before he even admits to himself what he feels, hiding any acknowledgement of aggression, he bends down and says, “My good man, may you live long and heartily. [...]

[...] The rigidity was largely set up in the head and neck regions—arms and shoulders, thus necessitating the bending of the knees and so forth.

[...] Now, it would have been easy enough for Jane to bend her own fingers up into this position. [...]

[...] But I felt tubes coming down my neck where they’d been so rigid that they bent where they shouldn’t, and the blood flow wasn’t as good in those bends. [...]

(Later the next day, as I write these notes, she told me her knees are “working, bending somewhat,” as they haven’t been doing. [...]

[...] The leaves are vulnerable to storms, to temperature, and they bend gently. [...]

[...] But Jane and I don’t try to bend others to our way of thinking; the reality that our species is creating is too big and varied for that; we believe only that we’ll have to explore questions like those involving genetics and consciousness in our own ways, and with Seth’s help.

[...] Jane took the envelope without opening her eyes, as usual, and sat quietly for a moment while holding it in both hands, without bending it, etc. [...]

[...] I will not make any practical suggestions anymore unless you ask me on the proverbial bended knee. [...]

[...] She picked up the test envelope and held it in both hands, lightly fingering it briefly without heavily bending it, twisting it, etc. [...]

You are bending over backward not to make money, both of you, though this is somewhat more understandable on Ruburt’s part, at least since his training is not as specific. [...]

(By now I was sitting tensely on the edge of our couch, bending over the notebook as it lay on the coffee table before me. [...]

[...] Man’s imagination can carry him into those other realms — but when he tries to squeeze those truths into frameworks too small, he distorts and bends inner realities so that they become jagged dogmas.

[...] This time, while bending over my desk, I saw with inner vision a rusty opened sardine can lying on a worn wooden shelf. [...]

[...] Now it could have been easy enough for Jane to bend her own fingers into this position, but here the three of us now saw the second set rising up long and white. [...]

[...] I bend over backward to understand. I bend over backward, and this is most difficult for me. [...]

[...] Instead, he bends down and says, my good man, et cetera, may you live long and hearty and God bless your life and then he pats himself on the back and thinks, I am growing more spiritual day by day. [...]

[...] One was very good: the figure of a heavy-faced man, smooth-shaven, well dressed in a tan topcoat, in the act of bending to his left, as though to pull out a chair. [...]

(She picked up the envelope, fingered it lightly without bending it, and waved it at me briefly. [...]