“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] A small boy might be caught in a lie, for example, and therefore labeled by an adult in the angriest of terms as a liar. [...]

[...] “Boy. [...]

[...] “Boy, I could tell those lapses were really long,” Jane said. [...]

[...] Allow yourself at times to imagine, at least, an important portion of your own creative self as innocent, sweet (gesture), and natural as that young Butts boy relative (Steve). [...]

[...] On Friday nights the parents of either Marilyn or Don take care of the little boy so Marilyn and Don can have a night a week free. Thus the boy has a grandparent(s) for a sitter.

(4:56 p.m. “Boy, am I sweating,” Jane said. [...]

[...] “I wouldn’t mind hearing your boy comment on this,” I said to my wife.)

It is indeed, but I never was able to do so and at one time when I was pope I used to try very hard, and it always sounded terrible and even the altar boys drowned me out. [...]

[...] He supposes that when he does not see a chair the chair does not exist; and my dear friends, the boy in this case is smarter than the man.

(“What if the boy closes his eyes but touches the chair?”)

[...] If his father, for example, sees the chair that the boy does not see, then the object exists as a thing to be seen in the father’s self-perspective. [...]

[...] I remember walking out to the living room where she writes her poetry, having finished my own work in my studio in the back of the apartment at about 9 PM; Jane’s first words were “Boy, have I got a great idea,” or to that effect. [...]

[...] The three boys leaned toward her. [...]

[...] I might as well add here, as well as in the session, that the three boys do not get together very often—on the average less than once a year I would say—because we all live in different communities, Loren and Dick have families, and of course each person is always busy with his or her own life.

[...] Also a drummer boy in a civil war. [...]

He was blinded in his teens, an accident, boys playing with stones. [...]

[...] A message having to do with a boy. [...]

The boy either 12 or 22 years old, with a farm somehow connected with his family or the message.

(“Boy, that right leg wants to move,” Jane said. [...]

The eldest boy also has suspicions. [...]

(The boy is a sophomore in high school.)

[...] He’s either in me or to the side,” she said, “and boy he’s having a ball tonight!”)

[...] Just before coming awake I had a brief impression of a man and a boy at a table or bench, upon which were some model trains. [...] If so I did not recognize them, nor understand what the boy said. [...]

[...] She has four boys, graying hair, etc. [...]

[...] “Oh boy,” she cried, “did you see that?”

[...] The boy, Albert, was too young to take over the shop, and for a couple of years the village had no cobbler, and the boy was a fisherman. [...]

“There was a boy in the shop, too — not their son, an apprentice to the cobbler. [...]

[...] “It’s no fun dredging up those feelings, so boy they better pay off.”