“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Long pause at 9:22, then intently yet humorously:) When you stand at your physical doorstep you look inward at an incredible glowing psychological venture. I am not using symbols in such statements, and hidden within them are important homey clues. Period. Each spoon that you touch, each flower that you rearrange, each syllable that you speak, each room you attend to, automatically brings you in touch with your natural feeling for the universe—for each object, however homey or mundane, is alive with changes and comprehension.

(Long pause.) End of dictation. A fond good evening—though you can expect some homey sessions also, of course, which are on the way (heartily and with humor.)

You think that the soul is a white wall with nothing written upon it, and so your idea of sacrilege is to shit upon it, not realizing that the shit and the soul are one, and that the biological is spiritual; and that, again — if you will forgive my homey concept — flowers grow from the shit of the earth. [...]

[...] They sit quite comfortably on their living room couch, with dinner on the coffee table, surrounded by all of the dear, homey paraphernalia that is familiar to your society.

Upon the blackboard, in this homey analogy, would be written the soul’s earthly experiences. [...]

[...] You are always a tourist, taking your homey paraphernalia with you and afraid to give it up. [...]

Your mother represented the opposite in your mind—the emotionally explosive, suffocating immediacy, a female life and earthly ties, social commitment, homey chores and distractions that seemed to be directly opposed to solitary creativity.

[...] “I could feel him trying to get those ideas through just right,” she said, “using as homey and everyday concepts as he could to make them clear. [...]

He felt ashamed of what he thought you thought of as trivial unimportant matters, homey concerns. [...]

[...] It amuses me to have to point out these homey truths to you; and so that Ruburt doesn’t feel neglected, I’ll get to him again one of these days.

You should know by now that my homey little suggestions have worked out, rather amazingly to your view, for your benefit.

I did not play the part of any towering personality of historical note, but became experienced in the homey and intimate details of daily life, the normal struggle for achievement, the need for love. [...]

[...] In grand ancient fashion above other more homey village-like souls, I have my own identity. [...]