“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] The grave is not the end, for so noisy a one never spoke with the lips of death. [...]

[...] She leaned back in her rocker, eyes closed, lips moving for some moments.

[...] She sat upright in her rocker, hands clasped, head back somewhat, eyes usually closed; her lips began to form words silently, as is usual in these instances. [...]

“There is a smugness about the lips, very good, that I am rather pleased with. [...]

[...] Her mouth acquired heavier, thicker, and wider lips as they moved with her speech, and her neck thickened. [...]

Alphabets can hardly hope to give you more than, if you will forgive me (humorously) lip services to these. [...]

[...] You are using it creatively whether you know it or not, and it shouts through you even though you purse your lips, and it speaks through you even though you tense your muscles to hide it. [...]

He did of course care deeply, (and had) his interpretation of your feelings: he believed that the symptoms served you both, that you would on the one hand object, give lip service against his methods, but that underneath they provided you service.

[...] When he became involved with sketched or drawn images, he began to imitate their form with the shape of his lips. [...]

[...] As a whole it was completely new to me, though each word had been spoken through my lips, and I had devoted many evenings in trance to its production. [...]

[...] Seth dictated the book through me, speaking through my lips. [...]

[...] Yet the dream is a vital portion of American national life, and even those who are unscrupulous must pay it at least lip service, or cast their plans in its light.

all from my lips go toppling.

[...] Her features had a different cast also, especially around the mouth; the lips were compressed and stiff, the chin knotted, the brow furrowed. [...]

[...] When you give lip service to ideas with which you do not agree, you are betraying your own ideals, harming yourself to some extent, and society as well, insofar as you are denying yourself and society the benefit of your own understanding. [...]

[...] Her lips were very close to my ear as she talked now; I could hear and feel each breath she took, each swallow she took; her voice dropped considerably in volume and I had the sensation that she was indeed speaking for someone else.

[...] Pink cheeks, parted lips. [...]

[...] I held the cup to Jane’s lips because she said she was too relaxed to hold it. [...]

[...] Two minutes later she spoke through lips that hardly moved: “Like in my head this enormous body is out through space — all space as we think of it —”

[...] The effect was remarkably like that of a tape recording played too fast: Her voice went way up the scale, issuing from stiffly held lips. [...]

[...] The grave is not the end, for such a noisy one as I never spoke with the lips of death.

There is a smugness about the lips—very good—that I am indeed rather pleased with. [...]

[...] As she spoke to us, her jaw became more square in outline against her long black hair; her nose enlarged, her mouth acquired heavier and wider lips as they moved with her speech, and her neck thickened. [...]

Now, if there ever was a puritan remark it was the one that just escaped our friend, Ruburt’s lips, for in his mind still, you see, you must have this purpose and be active and it is wrong to simply go back to bed for no better reason than that you want to go back to bed. [...]