“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] [I do not know how I felt so sure this was mother and daughter.] The little girl, with brown long hair and some kind of short nondescript dress, stood with her back to me. [...]

[...] Leonard knows Mr. Ryerson, and said that he did have a daughter, who was he thought possibly about seventeen. [...]

[...] I’d idly speculated with Jane about whether the reacquaintance with the Potters — Lois is Mrs. Potter’s adopted daughter — had any connection with my dream about our moving back to the apartment we’d had in the Potter house in Sayre.)

[...] She and her husband are staying overnight at Bumbalo’s before she goes upstate to help her daughter while the granddaughter has an operation for a cleft palate. [...]

(Jane, as Seth, again pointed to Lydia.) His daughter then marrying a man called Lines, a merchant. [...]

[...] He feels guilty for his daughter’s difficulty. [...]

To some extent this also is connected with your daughter Ruth and the other girl. [...]

[...] There are also some conflicts of a quite natural type between you and your daughter Ruth, who also has strong organizational qualities and artistic abilities, as you have. [...]

[...] One of the men has a daughter who is sickly, ailing at present. [...]

[...] On the other hand she viewed Ruburt as the daughter she would never have, while Ruburt viewed her as the mother she wished for.

[...] (Pause.) He would have preferred daughters. [...]

[...] We saw their newborn daughter, Jacqueline Ann, about whose birth Jane had given Cec some accurate predictions. [...]

[...] A conventional relationship, perhaps a wife and two daughters (pause) or a wife and two sisters. (Pause.) The name Erickson is mentioned, and a trip of his, I believe a projected trip.

Were you born once in winter,
in Europe’s ice and snow,
when villages were dark at night
and wolves roamed the towering hills?
Or dark-skinned, did your swaddling cry
pierce Egypt’s early dawn?
How many birthdays come and gone,
how many homelands, each your own?
How many loves have whispered through
the patterns of your mind?
How many sons and daughters have grown
from your womb or loins?
What voices merge with mine
to wish you happy birthday,
and what loves within your past
lay out a feast of wine and cakes?

[...] Not that we hadn’t known from earlier material and our own conscious experiences that her mother especially had often exerted an unhealthy pressure upon the daughter—but I’d been taken back to realize that Seth was actually saying that Jane had considered herself evil.

[...] Also a specific connection with a kitchen, and with one tall man with a mustache, who has a child, a daughter.

[...] Two daughters or two women close to her. [...]

I had meant to mention earlier that your daughter and sister were brothers in a previous life... [...]

He thinks of someone whom he considers in the same light as a daughter. [...]

[...] Through the mail mother and daughter patched up their volatile relationship enough to begin exchanging letters fairly regularly. [...] Marie even accepted me as her daughter’s husband. [...] Marie always sent her daughter sweaters that she had knitted with great difficulty because of her misshapen fingers; invariably the garments were too large. [...] Mother and daughter were to never meet again: Marie died shortly before 1975. [...]

In 1931 in Saratoga Springs, New York, Jane’s father, Delmer Roberts (or Del) chose to exercise the probability that he would leave his wife Marie and their daughter Jane, who was not yet three years old. [...] Minnie Finn was killed by a hit-and-run speeding motorist one icy winter day on her way to the corner store to buy the young girl some shredded wheat for supper—a tragedy that Marie never stopped blaming her daughter for. [...]

[...] Once a middle-aged man with graying hair said to a young woman: “You’re my oldest daughter. [...]

[...] If you had to go through all that they had to go through to contact a beloved daughter, how would you feel if you were met with fear and terror? [...]