“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(There came a knock on our door just as I finished asking this question. [...] Our living room opens on the hall entrance so we thought we could be heard through the door. Jane broke off her dictation; not knowing exactly what to do we answered the door.

[...] But John no sooner closed the door upon leaving, than Jane resumed dictating.)

[...] Behind the respectable scenes such concern was high, and many a good churchgoer let ministers in the front door while they collected bottles supposedly filled to the brim with fleshy incentives in hidden back rooms.

[...] In 329 on the other side of the bathroom we could hear Christina through two doors, singing in Russian and English. [...]

[...] He went next door and said hello to Christina in Russian. [...]

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

[...] What difference does it make which door you travel through? [...]

[...] I made sure the door to the room was shut.)

[...] Jane just finished the sentence when there was a knock on the door. [...]

[...] The door closed, the additional blankets, the relative lack of fresh air, the disinclination to get up when it is chilly, to record dreams, say, or go to the bathroom or whatever.

[...] In the summer for example with all the windows open, the closed door would not bother him as much. [...]

[...] You may, for example, sneeze or not sneeze, cough or not cough, walk to the window or the door, scratch your elbow, save a child from drowning, learn a lesson, commit suicide, harm another, or turn your cheek.

[...] Imagination will have opened the door and given him the freedom to perceive, but hallucination will not be involved. [...]

[...] Let it lead you into other aspects of consciousness and vitality as it is with our friend over here and to open doors of feeling as it has with you (Alison Hess). [...]

(At intervals all afternoon we could hear, even with the door to 330 shut, a woman called Louise call out endlessly, “Help me, help me, help me, help me, help me....” [...]

(Which reminds me that after she left us, Susie went next door to tease at Christina, but for some reason Christina didn’t respond with her own Russian mixture of unintelligible cries and pleadings for Georgia.

[...] Because you open a door, this does not mean that you cannot close it or open another door, nor does it mean that you cannot have two doors open at once, and that is my point.

[...] You can have two doors open at once. [...]

[...] Our doors are perhaps fifteen feet apart. [...]

[...] I turned her away at the door with a promise that Jane would call her at the Holiday Inn. [...]

[...] If someone comes to the door and you do not want to see them, make a polite excuse. [...]

[...] They will be built upon your own inner knowledge and your feelings about your state at the time, and your inner knowledge about people at the door.

[...] It takes but a moment to check with each other, though so far you usually answer the door, but state your feelings to Ruburt clearly, then ask for his, and make your decision jointly. [...]

(One of our cats now scratched at the hall door for admittance, as is customary. Without pausing, her eyes open and dark, Jane rose and went to the door and let the cat in. [...]

[...] The folded note shown below the object is my own, made at the time I discovered Leonard’s note stuck in our door on Sunday morning. [...]

[...] He also had Jane let the cat in so she wouldn’t get upset by the animal’s scratching at the door. [...]

[...] My mother’s next-door neighbor acquired a black kitten a few months ago; the animal has made quite an impression on my parents, who enjoy watching its antics in their own yard as well as the neighbors’.

(To Ned.) And no disappearing act will work, for wherever you can disappear to, I can follow and behind all your ostentatious openness there are closed doors. They are simply not as obvious as other people’s closed doors. [...]

[...] The self is as immediate as All That Is is immediate, and your quickest entry point is at the point of your present feelings and there is no other way, and the door to your feelings are open. [...]

[...] He opens up a door in himself that leads to other levels of his being, but a being that cannot be completely expressed in your world. [...] Doors in the psyche are different from simple openings that lead from one room to another, so my books only show a glimpse of my own existence. You all have such psychological doors, however, that lead into dimensionally greater areas of the psyche, so to some extent or another I speak for those other aspects of yourselves that do not appear in your daily context.

[...] Doors opened off the long narrow porch which extended full length, and I wondered whether Bill and Peggy Gallagher were staying here. I thought their room might have the door near the center of the porch. [...]

[...] Perhaps glass doors (long pause; at least one minute), but an expanse of glass.

(I thought I heard Teresa [help me, help me], sounding as though through closed doors. [...]

[...] The door to the medical arts building was locked, so I couldn’t use that as shelter on my way to the car, which was parked farther away from my usual spot than it usually is. [...]

[...] I do not tell you that a God is waiting for you on the other side of a golden door. [...]

[...] The avenues for development are open now. You can, now, set out to explore environments that are not physical if you want to, but I do not see any rush of students at that invisible door!

[...] It was like a sudden opening of a door. [...]

[...] Actually you opened the door out of desire, stimulated by our sessions and out of curiosity, but you were still frightened.

Your feeling of a door or funnel is quite legitimate, however, and if you felt attacked because of the onrush of data that seemed to crash down upon you, it was only because of your inability to control the volume, so to speak. [...]

[...] I hoped the feeling would somehow turn into sound or images, but it didn’t. At least I felt that I hadn’t slammed any ‘interior door’ shut.

(The entrance to Charles Biro’s offices was at the end of a hallway, as I remember, and the door to the anonymous office I visited tonight is next door to it. Tonight, I stood inside this open office door. [...]

[...] It was not an office I had ever been in, yet was next door to an office I used to visit occasionally when Jane and I lived in Tenafly, NJ, and I was free-lancing as an artist in NYC. [...]

[...] (Firecrackers next door.) This applies now privately to some of the people that you know, but in particular it applies to both of you now. [...]

(Jane had heard the fireworks next door, which had only sounded for two brief intervals. [...]

[...] We’ve been holding the sessions with the front and back doors opened so that the cool winds from the hills blow through the house. So far, no one has interrupted us at such times, though more and more visitors are finding their ways to our door. [...]