“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] (Long pause.) Your conflict personally about doing the lawn, or having it done for you, is by the way a minor example of your do-it-yourself tendencies coming in conflict with other ideas—a point I wanted to mention. [...]

[...] All That Is resides as much in the poor suburbanite who mows his lawn and has his endless mortgage as it does in a guru who sits upon his mat. [...]

[...] Part of the front lawn was rather steeply banked, part of the curving flagstone walk was stepped as it rose up to the porch. [...]

[...] The session was held in our living room rather than in our back room, because of a lawn party being held in back of the house.

[...] He bought a power-driven lawn mower, and for years cut the grass without asking our landlord for any compensation.

[...] She called to me from a car making a left turn off the Walnut Street bridge, by Water St. Jane & I were standing on the lawn by our apartment house. [...]

[...] He saw a gray brown bag of cloth used to collect leaves, and usually connected to lawn mowers. [...]

[...] [I’d injured the shoulder last summer while pulling on the starting cord for the lawn mower; it’s bothered me ever since, although not steadily.] The pain was intense, although not as bad when I’d first hurt the muscle. [...]

[...] With the surrounding woodland, I see that a garden and a quiet lawn place to the side of the house is very good. [...]

[...] Since it was a pleasant summer evening on July 1, we held the party out on the back lawn, leaving the cake upstairs in our apartment as a surprise for Bill. [...]

“As Floyd and I cut across the court I saw that the Brenner’s lawn was despoiled with a mixture of animal and industrial waste, like pollution. [...]

[...] As they sat in lawn chairs, they asked Jane to have a drink with them. [...]

[...] Although our house is separated from it by quite an expanse of lawn, our new neighbor is quite obvious as he walks back and forth before his picture window in his undershirt. [...]

[...] 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. [...]

[...] As I stood there trying to figure this out, a newsboy came across the lawn and called out, “Hi.”

[...] We hire help to maintain the lawn, while each year I vow to fix up the place. [...]