“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

The number 12, 14 steps and a circular clock, very large, above a stairway, with spokes out from it in gold, of wood, of nautical design.

[...] 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…..

The number 4, and 8 o’clock. [...]

(“8 o’clock.” [...]

An occasion at Philip’s home at about three o’clock in the afternoon, in connection with his family. [...]

(“2 o’clock. [...] Does 2 o’clock apply here? [...]

[...] 2 o’clock. [...]

[...] She reported that while delivering the material she had a timeless feeling that belied the little actual clock time that had passed. [...]

The ego, which must manipulate most directly with the everyday world, takes time, clock time, quite seriously. Even the ego however realizes to some extent that clock time is a convention; but it does not like such conventions broken.

Wednesday nights 9 0’clock.

(In the word o’clock, the numeral 0 was indicated by the pointer, not the letter o.)

[...] “Gee, that wasn’t long,” Jane said, looking at the clock. [...]

A seven o’clock appointment at a place with mainly white decor, white tablecloths, white waiter’s uniforms. [...]

[...] To some degree, you squeezed your exuberance into a tight fit, and tried to make a creative productivity regulate itself, to fit the industrial time clock: so many hours bringing a feeling of virtue, even if the attitude itself cut down on the exuberance of inspiration.

[...] It will find its own schedules, but your joint ideas of work hours were meant to fit in with a time-clock puncher’s mentality, and not your own.

You were not alone since nine o’clock. [...]

[...] “I notice that around seven o’clock you start getting nervous,” she said. [...]

We would exist in this other dimension of time whether we knew it or not, of course, just as our cat exists in my four o’clock in the afternoon, without ever understanding what a clock is. In a way, the cat is more nearly right than I am, because clock-time is an artificial device, and he’ll have nothing to do with it. [...]

[...] However you, Joseph, have been rushed with your notes, due to circumstances; and if you prefer we can then, after my few remarks, wait until ten o’clock for our Instream material. [...]

[...] Two o’clock.

(“Two o’clock.” [...]

Again, I see the image of a clock, with ornate pattern about it, oval rather than round. The impression that it is a lady’s watch rather than a man’s, or a mantel clock. [...]

[...] Perhaps at five o’clock. [...]

If, for example, at two o’clock your apartment appears comfortable, cozy and peaceful and twenty minutes later it suddenly seems crowded, uncomfortable and cluttered, then you see this is not imagination. [...]

(At 10:30 AM, I checked the clock and I awoke at 11 AM, so the following two dreams took place within the half-hour period. [...]

[...] “I feel like I could alternate sessions and motions until nine o’clock tonight,” she’d said just before I turned her. [...]

[...] She asked me to rub the equivalent spot on her right temple, but before we got any results a nurse came in to say, “I’m making my 4 o’clock check a little late. [...]

[...] “I keep watching the clock,” Jane said. [...]