“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] “Now I don’t know what to do — I could go to bed or continue the session for hours. …” She’d spent most of her day writing lyrics for rock music — for reasons not necessary to go into here — and now that activity reminded her of a poem she’d written in May 1963, well over six months before she began speaking for Seth. [...]

[...] “Anything,” she said, rocking back and forth in her chair, meaning she was trying to stay awake and would accept whatever she could get. [...]

[...] Her eyes remained closed, and she rocked back and forth gently. [...]

[...] She spoke while looking casually ahead for the most part, and performed such ordinary chores as putting out her cigarette, sipping from a glass of wine, sometimes rocking back and forth, etc.)

[...] A series, as of quickly following events, and a canyon or rock shape.

[...] The consciousness of matter is present in any matter — a fetus, a rock, a blade of grass, a nail.

The subconscious is not a cellar piled high with explosives, rocking at the foundations of the ego. [...]

[...] “That’s really the rock-bottom thing in stuff like that....” [...]

[...] And indeed, even as my voice reverberates against the ceiling, be thankful that it does not bounce and fall down and break into rocks upon the floor. [...]

[...] The artist would have to assemble mountains of rocks, an infinity, that is infinity of molecules, all equally impossible. [...]

[...] Why is grass soft, and rock hard? [...]

[...] His foot rests upon a coffee table, as he moves back and forth in his rocking chair. [...]

[...] The experience was so vivid she found her head rocking back and forth on the pillow, like a “flower on a stem.” [...]

[...] Therefore, when such a rigid, psychotic personality suddenly discovers a way for release through opening the subconscious, then the rigid rock at its core explodes into a lava of uncontrollable fantasy; and the terror at the base of such a personality is then externalized, and the individual forced to face under the worst possible conditions, those personal disruptions buried for so long.

Those units of consciousness are the building blocks for the physical material of your body, for the trees and rocks, the oceans, the continents, and the very manifestation of space itself as you understand it.

[...] The idea of rock and water and many colors, and a connection with a note. [...]

[...] There are rocks beneath the veranda, and beyond that, the ocean or bay. Right at the shore, down and ahead, is a scooped-out circular indentation where there is a swift current because of the rocks. [...]

[...] It does not consider itself as a rock. [...]

[Ruburt] is unpredictable in that he is temperamentally good-natured, but you never know when the rocks will fly, and neither does he. [...]

[...] The dark portions are shadows of trees, or perhaps rocks.

[...] They accept their fears as they accept a chair, or a rock, or a face and then they deal with them. [...]