“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

I pushed Jane in her chair out on the porch, as close to the hemlock as we could get behind the floor-to-ceiling glass; we looked up at the chattering animal from only three feet away. [...]

[...] A mill or mileogram (my interpretation), Seven, perhaps seventh floor.

(As Jane threw her glasses on the floor, going into her third trance of the evening, Theodore said, “I’m going to catch that some day.”)

[...] Miss Callahan is an elderly retired teacher who lives in the front apartment of our second floor here. [...]

[...] A center room with pale walls, first floor, where they stay a night.

(Also, glimpse of teen-age boy in light clothing and sneakers trying to crack some walnuts on a painted wood floor by stamping down on them energetically with his left foot. I heard or felt the thump of his foot on the floor. [...]

At the very least, you should have your rugs cleaned, even if you are grumpy, both of you, for a day, since you are obviously spoiled now and afraid of cold bare floors.

[...] Because of the conventional ranch-style floor plan of the hill house, our bedroom is isolated from the front and back doors; we reach it at the end of a hall opening off the living room. [...]

[...] I don’t recall any water on the floor. [...]

(Next, Jane and I had been attending a party in a building on a busy downtown street corner, on the second floor. [...]

[...] Jane likened it to the vibration one might feel through the floor of a house, say from traffic passing close by. [...]

[...] She told Jane that all the kids on the floor really admire her for the way she “withstood all that pain and agony.” [...]

[...] The idea of a night in a motel, easily accessible on the ground floor, even with dinner in your room, is a beginning, out of all proportion to any events involved. [...]

[...] I’m getting a funny feeling now, like I’m almost physically up off the floor, in a sitting position—I know I’m not—but it’s almost as though the chair wasn’t there.”

[...] Instantly a white light came from the floor up through the ceiling, door width, with some symbols in or on it. [...]

[...] Our good friend Leonard Yaudes, who lives directly below us on the first floor, would sometimes leave the house on class nights. [...]

[...] Its location, in one corner of the place, is unique; it sits on a raised platform perhaps two feet higher than the other tables; the dance band is on the left, the fireplace on the right, with an excellent view of the dance floor in between. [...]

[...] Much later, around midnight, when the floor was crowded, Jane and I saw Hack again. [...]

[...] For one thing, of course, they lived (and still do) on the second floor. [...]

[...] He’s already talked to Andrew Fife and Mary Krebs, and visited the head of the local Blue Cross office, on the floor beneath his own office. [...]

[...] In fact, it was she who answered the door, to speak briefly with someone who was looking for another apartment on our floor.

[...] One of these limbs arched up over our lawn toward our living room on the second floor, and the jutting-out bay windows of the apartment beneath us on the ground floor. [...]