“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] For that matter He didn’t treat His son too well either, as the story goes. [...]

[...] According to this, we lived several existences in the very distant past, including one in Denmark three centuries ago when Rob and I were father and son and Seth a mutual friend. [...]

[...] Also one son and four daughters.

[...] Christ spoke in terms of the father and son because in your terms, at that time, this was the method used — the story he told to explain the relationship between the inner self and the physically-alive individual. [...]

[...] Some such individuals, model sons, for example, who seldom even spoke back to their parents, were suddenly sent to war and given carte blanche to release all such feelings in combat; and I am referring particularly to the last two wars (the war in Korea, 1950–53, and the war in Vietnam, 1964–73), not the Second World War.

[...] The youngest son was once the personality’s father. [...]

[...] Marilyn no longer works there because she has a son, but Ann still does. [...]

[...] I would suggest, indeed, that perhaps you hesitate as the first son, to be more financially solvent than your father is, and therefore in your own eyes symbolically shame him.

[...] You were the adored sons of a Turkish chieftain, following the social patterns of your times, gifted at birth with power and position.

[...] You sired a son at the age of fourteen. [...]

Your paintings also represent sons to you. [...]

(According to Seth, the three of us were involved in Denmark in the 1600’s. I was a landowner, Jane was my son, and Seth was a spice merchant. [...]

[...] Jane had been my son. [...]

[...] If a scientist says consciousness is the result of chance, or Darwin’s theories say that basically man is a triumphant son of murderers, many people object. [...]

([Bill:] “Yes, my son—”)

[...] You think of your son as he is related to you. [...]

[...] Also, remember your own childlike self and the two of you, when you think of your son, imagine what you were like at that age and how difficult it was to communicate to your parents. [...]

[...] This was followed by several glimpses of a father and son, in old-fashioned clothes, pedaling about city streets on an old-fashioned bicycle, the kind with a large front wheel.

You are afraid of releasing your energy into your work, for fear it will carry you beyond all ordinary relationships—simply because your father’s creativity seemed to cut him off from his wife and sons, and to lead to isolation. [...]

[...] The individual must make his or her own way through a barrage of different value systems, making decisions that were largely unthought of when a son followed his father’s trade automatically, for example, or when marriages were made largely for economic reasons.