“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] I was with her when she died in her sleep at that early-morning hour in September 1984. [...]

[...] Since she had died in a Catholic hospital, I called for a priest to speak at her bedside. [...]

asleep, and soon die of a broken heart.

[...] If your health is bad enough, of course, you will die. [...]

[...] The body may be in excellent health, and die that way in an accident. [...]

One flower may die before another. [...]

Your other dream involves Miss Bowman’s desire for death—her knowledge that although her mother died at an old age she is young and active at another level of reality—and it was Miss Bowman’s image of her mother as a younger woman that you saw. [...]

[...] I talked to Jane: “I’m not dying or anything, but could you come down now? [...]

[...] I told him the red maple he’d help plant in the back yard had evidently died but he said it may not really be dead.

[...] A voice says, “May your womb shrivel and die!” A terrible thing to say, I think—separate enough to understand and comment. [...]

[...] While we waited for Seth to come through, she talked about the deaths of her parents.¹ Her father, Delmer, died on November 16, 1971, when he was 68; her mother, Marie, died on May 10, 1972, at the same age.

(When Jane was young Marie had in all seriousness often warned her “When I die, I’ll come back and haunt you.” [...]

(To me:) You died as a young boy in an operation, however, in this life as you think of it. You died again in the war, where you were a pilot — but those are not your official deaths, so you do not recognize them.³

[...] I am not speaking symbolically, of course, when I say you died as a youngster. Nor was any harsh reality forced upon the mother by the dying child, for that portion of your mother was the part that regretted having had the child.

[...] The child’s desire to die chose that event. [...]

In dreams you are acquainted with probable events, from which you then choose; (to me:) so before you died as a child, you knew that you could pick or choose that death. [...]

I don’t want to die yet.

[...] Then I saw the whole thing very clearly, and I said, excited: “She died, at seventeen, there in the cobbler’s shop. She died from burns. [...] He shoved her out into the street and rolled her over and over on the stones and in the dirt; but she died.

[...] He was fifty-three when he died. [...]

[...] The first Sarah, who died at seventeen, never went. [...]

[...] And Sarah … the first one … if she hadn’t burned to death, she would have died anyhow at seventeen, of tuberculosis. [...]

People do not die of disease. They die because of emotion and belief, and because there is a subjective rather than an objective time for dying. [...]

[...] (Body stuff continues.) [RFB note: Bob McClure died, August 1979, of cancer.] Do two sketches of Bob McClure.

[...] The idea of making choices should be stressed: to live or to die is indeed each person’s choice.

Some people might say, “I have a right to die,” when they are arguing the case for suicide. [...]

[...] If he merely picks up his brother’s thought, and the thought is, quote: “I am dying. I wish I could say goodbye to my brother,” then the receiver of the message could form the apparition of the dying brother, and then perceive it in his bedroom.

[...] If however the dying brother made an out-of-body journey before or after death, for a last visit, then the receiver would still have to construct the apparition himself in order to perceive it. [...]

[...] He has not died in the past because he was still tied to your mother. He will not die at least until he sees her again.

If it had not been for her vitality and the force of her will, he would have died years ago. [...]

(I told Jane that I came up with the idea—hardly original thinking, I said—that we never die even as physical creatures, until we reach a ripe old age in some probable reality. That even though we may die in childhood, and at successive later ages, each of us lives to old age somewhere. [...]

[...] It is a part of the action of your being and consciousness, but as the eye cannot see its own shifting colors and expressions, as it is not aware that it lives and dies constantly as its atomic structure changes, so you are not aware that the ego continually changes, dies, and is reborn.

[...] Such psychological structures also retain their identity, their pattern of uniqueness, even while they change constantly, die and are reborn.

[...] But all of this will do nothing except to allow people to die, perhaps, of other diseases still “unconquered.” People will die when they are ready to, following inner dictates and dynamics. A person ready to die will, despite any medication. [...]

(“Something to do with a dying out or fading away, as a score.” [...] Father Ryan died of leukemia and his death was expected; it could correspond to “dying out” or “fading away”.

Something to do with a dying out or fading away, as a score.

Jane died in the hospital at 2:08 a.m. on Wednesday, September 5, 1984, after being there, quite helpless in certain ways, for a year and nine months. [...] She was only 55 years old when she died. [...]

[...] The experience was to inform you emotionally and spiritually of the great meaning of each individual, portray the lovely brilliance that is within each human being, and let you know that the integrity of the self and the soul exists beyond the possibility of annihilation, as you yourself will continue to exist regardless of which path you choose to take — dying within two years, or living physically on for many more. [...]

In the entire fabric of your existence, this life is a brilliant, eternally unique and precious portion, but only a portion, from which you emerge with joy and understanding whether you die tomorrow or in years to come. [...]