“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Scene 3—These same women, myself, and at least one man are hiding though I don’t remember why. We’re in a large storage building. Some men, maybe police, come in and we hide in the shadows; a door beside is going to open so we get down and drag ourselves on our bellies to another door at the end of the room to hide in the shadows. The man with us may have his hands in shackles or something; I have to help him climb over some walls. As we move toward door shadows, almost same, I see one woman carrying Rob’s landscape (the one in our bedroom) pushing it ahead of her. When we almost have it made one woman says to hell with it, she can’t take it another minute; she’s just going to stand up and show herself no matter what. I’m furious at her. Rob wakens me.

[...] The dream gave him three scenes representing various areas of his life in terms of time—the institution of the gallery and his early ideas, the office representing the world, and his hiding place, which was a kind of storage barn. [...]

(On Wednesday, May 13, Miss Callahan’s relatives asked Jane if we could move Miss Callahan’s blue divan into our apartment, and in its place let them take a hide-away bed we had in storage; this bed to be used for a nurse who was to live with Miss Callahan when she was brought home from the Town House. [...]

[...] In the meantime I’d put his address downstairs in storage among many others, and hadn’t taken the time to find it so I could answer — another of the mail hassles that crop up often.

[...] Unfortunately, the vest was too tight to button, and the umbrella couldn’t be properly folded up, once opened, for storage; I finally figured why after fussing with it for half an hour, and after a bit of a struggle I got it collapsed and tied so it couldn’t open up. [...]

Coupled with our reservations about the uncertain state of the art concerning nuclear power, Jane and I deeply mourn the shameful fact that for some 30 years now our country’s government and industry have neglected to develop safe methods for the transportation and permanent storage of radioactive waste materials; some of these will remain highly toxic for hundreds of thousands of years, and thus pose potential threats to many many generations. [...]

[...] (Long pause.) When can the search for the good have catastrophic results, and how can the idealism of science be equated with the near-disaster at Three Mile Island, and with the potential disasters that in your terms exist in the storage of nuclear wastes, or in the production of nuclear bombs?

[...] This is a simplification, but the cells were put in a kind of dry storage. [...]

The impression of an extra back room, not used for daily living—for storage perhaps or mementos, and so forth. [...]

[...] These areas have to do with the storage of information that is usually available to unconscious layers of the present personality, and we hope to make them more consciously available.

[...] [It grew to be over eight and a half feet deep in the reactor building.] Utility engineers now have in operation a filtering system to decontaminate before storage the nearly one million gallons of water in the two buildings. The job is to take around nine months; the processed water will finally be disposed of in 1983; the filters holding the radioactive material will be trucked to facilities in Idaho and Washington State for testing and storage. [...]

[...] As yet, memory storage is small, but now the instantaneous construction is no longer instantaneous, in our terms. [...]

[...] Of course 1730 is still a large part of my life, as it is of Laurel’s, even while we use it for storage of all of the treasures it still contains: many of my paintings, files stuffed with records that are destined for the collection at Yale University Library, Laurel’s books and mine, and her records and possessions—all of those intimate signs of life that now seem suspended in our creations of space/time. [...]