“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] Your hand and your foot have different functions. [...]

[...] Man’s initial curiosity did not involve seeing, feeling, or touching the object’s nature as much as it involved a joyful psychic exploration in which he plunged his consciousness, rather than, say, his foot into the stream — though he did both.

[...] This new leg reached only to my knee but was complete with a foot and a knee as it stemmed from my hip. [...]

[...] Left foot moved more. [...]

[...] It is a pulse that beats within you and the pupil of your eye and the big toe of your foot and your elbow. [...]

[...] If it were a physical target, the person would stand [bow and] arrow in hand, thinking only of hitting the bull’s-eye, mentally concentrating upon it, making perhaps some learned gestures — proper footing or whatever — and the body’s magical properties would do the rest.

[...] Her eyes closed, she sat rocking back and forth with one foot upon the edge of the coffee table.)

The release of a small “unknown” muscle, short and innocuous in the foot, might activate another in the shoulder in the precise order necessary, that will act as a stimulus, say, for a joint someplace else. [...]

[...] I had just finished my first small glass of wine when a wave of “feeling” swept over me from foot to head. [...]

[...] I was alone in the art room, eating lunch at my desk, when the feeling swept over me from head to foot. [...]

(Jane said her voice sounded to her as though it issued from a point perhaps a foot in front of her mouth. [...]

(Jane delivered the above paragraph quite forcefully, facing me with one foot up on a chair. [...]

[...] To punish himself he attempted to give himself his mother’s symptoms, to put the shoe on the other foot, so to speak, almost in a religiouslike atonement.

[...] Obviously I am simplifying, since you can eat an orange, watch television, scratch your foot, and yell at the dog — all more or less at the same time. [...]

[...] Briefly, and I could be mistaken, I thought I had a sensation of being suspended perhaps a foot or so above my body.

Now my dear friend—(staring at me, Jane tapped with her foot on the coffee table between us) your hats, your caps... [...]

[...] They weren’t four-footed. [...]

[...] Approximately five foot five, though somewhat shortened now, as with age. [...]

[...] The same applies to the right foot particularly as new ligaments loosen.

[...] She had an odd feeling of elephantiasis in her head, she said: “My ears feel like they’re out to here” —and she held up her hands a foot away from her ears. [...]

Rob had purchased two four-by-eight-foot pieces of Masonite and a roller pan. [...]

[...] This gave him four pieces, each four-foot square.)