“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

The man of letters is not understood either, and you feel that your brothers cannot understand what you do, since their minds seem relatively closed —relatively closed—to the books themselves, which would automatically offer an explanation. [...]

[...] I could feel a good-humored vitality, not mine, close and present.

While I sleep and lie stretched out,
Eyelids closed and pupils dark,
Who walks wide-eyed downstairs
Through the door in the cold night air,
And travels where I have never been?
Who leaves clear memories in my head
Of people I have never met?
Who takes these trips while I
Never lift one inch from bed?
Who dreams?

“I dreamed that I was in the kitchen of the hill house, in Elmira, crouched down just inside the room’s glass storm door, which was closed. [...]

“Later in the dream, maybe at night, I was sitting on a couch with some close friends, as at a small party. [...]

[...] Indeed, how irritating it was, I thought, that for Jane and me at least the magical self seemed to be so far removed from daily reality, while the sinful self was so close! [...] Seth, I knew, would simply say that the magical self is just as real and close as any other self. [...]

[...] Since Jane couldn’t leave the house by herself, let alone go holiday shopping, she had a close friend buy the Christmas presents she had in mind for me. [...]

[...] She could read and write, paint, have sessions, watch television, do a little simple housework, call or see a few close friends, and answer some of the mail. [...]

[...] I think that any assessment of her writing and psychic abilities will have to include a close study of her painting. [...]

You identified primarily now, as a poet and an artist because those designations, up to that time, seemed most closely to fit your abilities and temperaments. [...]

[...] Her eyes were closed, and remained so once trance began to show itself. [...]

[...] (Long pause, eyes closed.)

At first we thought of keeping the collection closed until after our deaths, as donors usually request to be done, but we’ve decided to make everything accessible as soon as we can, both for scholarship and for study by the public. [...]

[...] Your own relationship is closely involved. [...]

([Joel:] “Coming in, closing in, riding up to...”

[...] She also felt that we’d eaten supper [at 7:30] too close to session time.

[...] After giving a couple of paragraphs of material for Jane, Seth brought the session to a close at 10:15 P.M. Jane was more than a little surprised at its quick end; her delivery had been steady and forceful. [...]

A few remarks, before we close for the evening.

[...] Jane cried again, and kept on making a series of low moaning sounds, eyes closed, as I worked with the leg. [...]

[...] Many memories, say of a room whose door once opened is now closed. [...]

(“Will the board spell correctly for us if we close our eyes?”)

[...] At the same time a door close by slammed abruptly. [...]

[...] And I will indeed close the session, with no more p.s.’s, and with my most sincere wishes for you all. [...]

[...] He was ready to leave, and he took what doorways were open, and had you closed them he would have found others.

[...] John’s question above was not taken down by me verbatim, but is a close approximation. [...]

[...] (Long pause, eyes closed.)

We will then close the session, and my best wishes to your fingers. [...]

[...] She felt better after I read her the session for March 19, and a great Sumari poem I used to close out the essays for Dreams with.