“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Now, you (Florence) have given your son a car—and why? [...]

Connection with racing cars. [...]

[...] The same statement was made when you carried Ruburt to the car. [...]

[...] An unexpected and fairly long journey on Philip’s part, at least partially by car, within three months. [...]

[...] Spontaneously, with the process just mentioned, millions of pictures are being taken also of the probable actions that will — or may — be needed, in your terms, in the moment immediately following, from microscopic action to the motion of a muscle, the driving of a car, the reading of a book, or whatever.

[...] Either I followed him to his car, then talked to him, or followed him to where he lived with his parents — but he bore an uncanny resemblance to my own son.

[...] [I had cried in the car as we drove out of Sayre on the way south, but had, I thought, regarded this as natural enough at the time.] Jane told me that it was her fault we had chased around the country, that her spontaneity had done nothing but get us into trouble. [...]

[...] He wanted a car when you did not have one, but was furious that you got one in order to visit your parents—not to escape from them.

[...] No matter how far you journey — on a motorcycle, in a car or plane, or on foot — (gesturing to me as Seth, Jane then changed the sentence) by bicycle or camel, or truck or vessel, still you are the wanderer, and the land or ocean or desert is the environment through which you roam. [...]

(This noon, driving home from work, I pulled a muscle in my right side while wheeling the car around a corner—one of those painful things that you feel when you cough, breathe deeply, laugh, etc.)

[...] Rob had the two pieces of Masonite cut in half so they’d fit into our car. [...]

[...] (A rather unique way of referring to a ten-mile car trip to Wellsburg. [...] So, incidentally, does the word “carload” on the back.)

You might dream, for example, of going away on a long trip by car, only to find that there were difficulties and a tire blew when you were driving too fast. [...]

[...] Therefore, using your inner senses that day you felt the urge to get into your car because consciously you were looking for negative patterns. [...]

[...] My subjective sensations were those of someone suddenly thrown off-balance by the sickening swerve of the car’s turn. [...]

[...] If you are a writer or an artist, then it seems that you must produce so many paintings or books or whatever as, say, an automobile worker must process so many pieces of the overall car chassis. [...]

[...] There seems to be in his memory an affair—the two of you in a car, after a party many years ago. [...]

(It will be interesting to learn from Dr. Instream, who was driving the car when he and his wife arrived at York Beach on August 23 for their overnight stay.)

(John told us later that the male companion with the woman was a car salesman; hence Jane’s possible associative connection with mechanics. [...]

(Note by John Bradley, June 8,1966: “Companion at bar with woman was a car salesman and about 24-26 years old. [...]

[...] John parked his car so the headlights illuminated the house to a good degree, and we showed him about as best we could without a key to get inside. [...]

[...] Jane was walking on the other side of a long black shiny car hood; she looked at me, smiled and waved a greeting.