“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] One of the photographs accompanying the piece was a double-page, full color aerial view of the entire city in its desert setting; Jane and I found this so evocative that I mounted it for easy study. [...]

[...] One time I saw a group of men and women walking out of a deserted house into a field of knee-high brown weeds, and heard them talking plainly.

[...] In the meantime we drove around the deserted college town, and stopped once for a drink in a hot little bar. [...]

(Now, Willy had deserted the torn carton. [...]

[...] The disorientation that it feels is the same that it will feel when the physical body is deserted at the point of death. [...]

[...] The disorientation that it feels is the disorientation, you see, that it will feel when the physical body is deserted, or at the point of death.

[...] Now the joy that you experience when you are painting will be yours, and not desert you whether you stay in your house or go to someone else’s. You will not have to worry about “carting it along” with you. [...]

[...] A mutual friend sent us photographs of the big old red-brick building, three stories high, shuttered and dark and deserted among the trees and in the snow.

[...] Apartment 4 was empty; its door was on a short chain that let me push it open a bit to peek into a now-deserted living room that Jane and I had known so well.

[...] The consciousnesses therefore are not simply filled up by a life force which then deserts them to go on its way, for these consciousnesses are themselves portions of the life force, and form its shape, if you will, and continuing existence.