“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Your father feels this way also. But he is bitter against it, and wants what it has to offer despite himself. She did not care. She was deeply attached to the other brother. She collected buttons and string and papers, even as she collected animals. To her the buttons almost seemed to have consciousness, and when she was alone she would take out her boxes of buttons and hold some in her hands, and remember the garments to which they belonged, and when she had worn them, and how the weather had been; and she lived in a present that was deeply colored by the past.

(The material on buttons surprised me a great deal. I had forgotten about Ella’s penchant for collecting things, and as far as I know had not mentioned it to Jane. Jane had no conscious memory of my doing so. As soon as Seth mentioned buttons, I immediately had a picture of Aunt Ella holding an old-fashioned red tin box, in which many buttons lay. As a boy I had been fascinated by this.)

Her husband did resent this, and he would eye her when she sat thus, but he did not say a thing. She had saved the buttons from his garments also, and she would say, “Do you remember when you wore this suit, and where we were, and what we did?”

(4:35 — I pressed the button for aide. [...]

[...] This shop specialized in unusual military type uniforms… jackets that buttoned up the side of the type that possibly an early western constable might wear. [...]

[...] The connection leads to buttons.” [...] Five female models wear coats, and many buttons are visible on the coats. The buttons appear to be cloth-covered however, in the photographs.

[...] The connection leads to buttons. [...]

[...] Dark circles like black button shapes. [...]

[...] The black buttons on Blanche’s death—the dress she wore. [...]

(Being able to use the nurse’s call button is a great help, she said. [...]

[...] He does not have to publish a book every year on the button. [...]

[...] I pressed the call button again — and Leanne came right in to unhook my wife, and give her a shot of heparin in her heparin lock, to keep it open for the next IV.

[...] Once again, I arranged the call button for her before leaving at 7:05 PM. [...]

[...] The good news is that Toni, the night aide, had suggested that Jane see if she could work the nurse’s call button. [...]

[...] I pressed the call button for help about the catheter. [...]

(Long pause.) These attitudes may be reflected in rather simple compulsive actions: the woman who cleans the house endlessly, whether it needs it or not; the man who will follow certain precise, defined routes of activity — driving down certain streets only to work; washing his hands much more frequently than other people; the person who constantly buttons and unbuttons a sweater or vest. [...]

[...] She did so while on her side, and couldn’t get help when she pressed the call button. [...]

Now our object is something small and round, quite like a button but with symbols on it, and larger than a button. [...]

[...] I tried to nap, but got up at 5:15 to press the call button for a nurse to track down the tray. [...]

[...] By now, she said, all of the nurses and aides notice it when she uses the call button, and many of them remark about her general improvements. [...]

[...] He is thin, with a white shirt that is not fully buttoned. [...]

[...] A button loose—that is, a button is loose. [...]

[...] He is thin, with a white shirt that is not fully buttoned. [...]

[...] Unfortunately, the vest was too tight to button, and the umbrella couldn’t be properly folded up, once opened, for storage; I finally figured why after fussing with it for half an hour, and after a bit of a struggle I got it collapsed and tied so it couldn’t open up. [...]