“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] I’d explained to her when I came in today that last night when I got home I’d found a dead chipmunk lying on the carpet near the coffee table. [...]

[...] His imaginings, even of simple things—the bird baths, the feeders, the picnic table that implies outside experience—all of this will pay off.

[...] (As Seth, Jane pointed to the Christmas amaryllis that sat on the coffee table between us.) It can be encouraged, watched and tended, but it grows as a natural part of the personality. [...]

[...] I am up above, looking down at a room in which four people sit at a table. [...]

[...] I am up above, looking down at a room in which four people sit at a table. [...]

[...] Jane spoke with her eyes open while standing quietly by a table. [...]

[...] I saw my art for the first page, perhaps half again as large as the printed version would be, lying on a flat drawing table. [...]

[...] I sat at the drawing table examining the assistant’s work.”

[...] In vivid color: I dreamed that Jane and I were eating at a little table in an open-air restaurant or cafe-type setting. [...]

[...] There was a constant stream of people passing our table in the coffee shop, but no one paid us any attention.

[...] There were many people about, sitting and eating at small round tables with white cloths. [...]

[...] My writing table is beside a bookcase, and before the session I slipped the test envelope between a couple of books without Jane being present. [...]

(This was a perfect opportunity for me to slip the test envelope out of its hiding place on the bookshelf, reach across my small writing table and drop the envelope into Jane’s lap. [...]

[...] When I took my seat at our table in the living room just before 9 PM Jane told me she had felt surprisingly nervous at my absence so close to the session; hence her calling to me. [...]

[...] I had a little trouble focusing on my writing paper, but none looking away from the table. [...]

(Jane resumed with her head resting on her crossed arms as they lay upon the table. [...]

[...] Jane continues to improve in her walking—she’s up to 12 times daily, with the aid of her typing table—so we seemed to have retreated from the prospect of her becoming so inactive that she stopped getting on her feet. [...]

[...] A whole puzzle exists, a crossword puzzle is on the table. [...]

[...] I see a large, sort of beefy man with a red face, sitting at a piece of furniture like a drafting table, carefully cutting out these characters. [...]

(“Seth, Jane’s ring lies on the table beside us. [...]

He felt then that the tables had been turned on him again, after a time of freedom. [...]

[...] She added that she thought their teacher was standing at the table by the windows. [...]

(By now I was sitting tensely on the edge of our couch, bending over the notebook as it lay on the coffee table before me. [...]

Now you acquiesced in our experiment earlier this evening, when Ruburt and you spoke at the [supper] table. [...]

[...] Just before coming awake I had a brief impression of a man and a boy at a table or bench, upon which were some model trains. [...]

[...] Her brown hair was pulled back; she was sitting on a straight chair beside a small table, holding phone in left hand, wearing dungarees. [...]

[...] You are far more lively, even our table moving Edgar over here, in the dream state than you recognize. [...]

(The warmer weather now allows us to eat lunch at the picnic table we’ve installed in one half of our double garage. [...]

[...] Such people begin to imagine impediments in their paths as surely as anyone would who imagined that physical barriers were suddenly put up between them and a table they wanted to reach at the end of the room.

[...] She’s now walking again with the table, two or three times a day, and seemingly better each time. [...]