“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Then I was in an elevator car inside the building, and rising toward the house on the roof. Jane wasn’t with me. Another, older lady was having trouble repairing a small mechanism that was fastened to the wall beside the car’s door. I offered to fix it for her; this involved my turning some large screws into place by hand. While I was doing so, the elevator stopped at a floor and the door opened. The lady left, and I hurriedly inserted the last few screws while the door stayed open. Just as I finished — or perhaps nearly so — the door began to close. I leaped toward it. I wedged my shoulder between the door and its frame and forced the door open enough so that I could squeeze out into a hallway of the hospital. The door shut behind me.

[...] I also felt that in each of us there is a deep connection with “magical” elements of our nature—magical in that they rise like poetic inspiration, filling the mundane world with a special living, personal meaning. [...]

And as your dreams originate with you, rise from you, attain a seeming independence and have their ending with you, so do the entity’s personalities arise from him, attain various degrees of independence and return to him while never leaving him for an instant.

And while I speak to you, my lungs
Rise and fall behind breastbones,
Fill their secret tissue mouths
With the air that swirls in this bright room.
They breathe for me the very breath
Upon which all I am depends,
Yet I do not know how this is done.
Who is this ghost,
This other one?
Who moves the lung? [...]