“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] And right at the end of the session, Jane’s head flopped down loosely, as she quickly returned to the very relaxed state she’d known before, while speaking for Seth.)

(Seth had already given the heading for Chapter Ten, but as we sat for the session now I reminded Jane of her questions about group souls, as described at the end of the 637th session. [...]

[...] This is the heading.

(“Will it be possible for me to market that oil sketch I did of the cowboy head?”)

[...] At these times she reports that she would rather nod her head to a remark or question of mine, so as not to break her continuity with Seth. [...]

(I asked Jane if she felt all right, and she nodded her head in agreement.)

(Talking about checking data she said, “You don’t rip the head of a flower off the stem to see if it will grow a new blossom.” [...]

[...] The affair will slide for now, but in approximately two months it will come to a head. Do not let it go to your head. [...]

[...] (Puzzled, Jane shook her head.)

[...] The negative values about it will supersede and gobble the integrity of 3; unload the 7. Greek (Jane paused and sat with her head cocked as though listening), and the theorems of (“I’m having trouble with the name.”) Minopeles (my phonetic interpretation), a minor mathematician.

[...] If I hit myself on the head, I would want to know why. [...]

[...] It is more difficult now for you do not have a code of ethics written in your head to tell others. [...]

[...] I then saw a gaunt blonde woman sitting in a chair, profile, facing my right, with her head tilted away from me at an angle. [...]

(At 4:40, she was near tears when I asked why her psyche hadn’t risen up to protect her when it became obvious that she was heading for deep trouble with the symptoms. [...]

[...] Jane now spoke quite slowly, with her head down and her eyes closed, whereas before her eyes had opened often and her manner had been very animated and cheerful.

[...] From its position atop the pole at the head of Jane’s bed, the Bactrim still drips into the plastic tube, on its way into Jane’s right arm. [...]

The main problems will not be there, unsolved, to rear their heads. [...]

[...] Instead of visions of sugar plums I shall dance within your heads! [...]

[...] Of the last few months or so I spent at my mother’s house—when she called me time after time during those spring and summer months of 1950: she wanted her pillows turned, she cried out in rage and pain—and here I was some 30 years later, calling out to Rob (voice breaking) to move my pillows or raise my head. [...]

“Revelation, Obedience, and Objectivity”—that is the heading for this evening’s discussion.

[...] She said that at the same time she’d felt panicky a couple of times, and she’d had a very catchy, well-known tune running through her head. [...]

[...] The head of the family is also someone with whom you are acquainted, being in this life the husband of your present mother’s niece. [...]

[...] 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. [...]

And at the danger of being considered a nag, despite Ruburt’s insistence that the bedroom looks better the way it is, your bed should be moved so that the head is upon the wall that I specified months ago.

[...] Many months ago Seth had suggested putting the head of our bed to the north, without going into much detail as to reasons. [...]

[...] Tonight Jane spoke while sitting down, in an informal manner; in the 170th she stood erect with her head thrown back. [...]