“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(“The only other thing I can think of is the thyroid, that it’s still below par,” Jane said. I agreed that had something to do with it, but also felt other, psychological factors were involved. Mr. Wrigley, the physician’s assistant who had called a couple of weeks ago, also visited today to check upon Jane’s decubiti [which are doing well, by the way], so he was here when Peggy arrived. The four of us talked in the bedroom. Mr. Wrigley said that the ulcer on Jane’s coccyx was filling in with “grainy” flesh, which means it’s on the mend also, if slowly. But the entire afternoon had been an active, tiring one for Jane.

(“I’m just waiting.” Jane said now, smoking a cigarette as I sat with her at the card table. I’d brought the notebook, as she had suggested I do. Her eyes were heavy, but—“I almost feel something.” she said at 7:25. “Anything,” she said, rocking back and forth in her chair, meaning she was trying to stay awake and would accept whatever she could get. And once again, as we waited I thought that I was the one who’d initiated events this evening, whereas I had trouble understanding why Jane didn’t do more of that herself.