“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Toward the end of the session, I was in an emotional turmoil, still in trance and for this Barb told me at the time she had no explanation. I thought I was in a hospital room. Most likely this was my interpretation of her giving birth to the child; she was supposed to have a Caesarean section but didn’t and was in labor 25 hours; a woman is described here, gray hair, buck teeth, yellow teeth—this, Barb says, is a description of the man’s mother—she wanted him to marry Barb: teeth not really buck but protuberant and yellowed; also gray hair. she does not remember the room number at the hospital or the color of the walls [given as green].)

[...] Jane does know the proprietor of the Art Shop, Marjorie Buck, who made out the bill. [...]

[...] Jane had never seen the object; I obtained it today, October 24, from Marjorie Buck, the proprietor, when I bought pencils and paper stumps with which to do the job my old friend, Bill Ward, mailed to me over the weekend. [...]

[...] Marjorie Buck is the proprietor of The Art Shop, where I obtained the bill used as object. [...]

[...] Jane says Marjorie Buck lives in an old house, at 655 Logan Street. [...]

[...] Do not buck him on principle to buck him. [...]

[...] Is it as important to buck his ideas because you do not agree with them or to go along and say, who knows? [...]

[...] This is separate and the woman here…a strong school connection again…3 o’clock or late afternoon…number 414…now this could be the hour 4:14 or month…I do not know…Green room…202 or 213..whether this is a month or year or house number I don’t know…a grip…a strong grip…in the afternoon…in a room…a woman, gray hair, buck teeth…yellow teeth…She yells out and calls and a young boy comes in blue clothes & bicycle…I think he rides….It’s 1943 or 1947…Room is green…yellow…Room is green…no, cream…yellow…it’s afternoon…..

[...] It is a certain kind of multidimensional structure, as per your television program (tonight, Buck Rogers), in which all things are returned to their most beneficial state. [...]

[...] Oh—leave me eight bucks, will you? [...]

[...] I told her about the four deer — three bucks and a doe — that I’d seen out back this morning, nibbling away in the so-called wildflower garden. [...]

[...] Do not buck it so. [...]

[...] At times, however, you refused to lead in this life when circumstances might have warranted a more active role at particular times, because in that previous life you would not buck Ruburt, and because you also were more cautious this time about the use of personal power.

[...] At about 7 PM, we were eating supper and watching Buck Rogers on TV, when Jane had another panic attack. [...]

(On Sunday afternoon, August 8, Jane and I attended the funeral of my Aunt Ella Buck in Wellsburg, NY, a nearby small town. [...]