“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] She began to have a few tears as we read the prayer together before I left at 7:10; she said she cried because I was going. [...]

(Jane broke down in tears now. [...]

(By 10:25 the tears seemed to be over. [...]

[...] She’d projected a lot of negative feelings upon the doctor, whom she likes, even to the point of tears. [...]

[...] She said through tears that she wants to get well, but that meant little to me, I’m afraid, since her state flatly contradicts such protestations. [...]

(Another development cropped up just before supper time, and even brought tears to Jane. [...]

[...] She began speaking, or dictating, to me in her own voice—not Seth’s, for instance—but it was wavering, choked with tears. [...]

[...] The physical labor involved was minimal and took only a few minutes, coming after Jane had almost tearfully asked—even demanded—this noon that I try to keep the windows cleaner. [...]

(As we talked before lunch came, Jane shed a few tears. [...]

[...] They were sparkling bright, not widely opened, and yet were brimming with tears. There were no tears upon his cheeks. There were also tiny light, or white, crosses centered upon each pupil; these, coupled with the brimming tears and the smile, formed a most striking and unusual effect. [...]

(Tearfully, moaning, at 2:58: “I’m going to try, Rob, to have a session. [...]

(Eyes still closed, face streaked with tears, Jane whispered, “I’m trying to control it...” [...]

[...] Can’t make out—!” Jane burst into tears. [...]

(I found Jane very blue—even to the point of a few tears—when I got to 330 this afternoon. [...]

[...] At a few spots I felt the tears in her voice, and that they were very close to breaking through.)

[...] I felt tears, listening to her. [...]

[...] That is perfectly all right, you go where you go and you travel where you travel, and if you want to tear your tickets up in the morning and forget where you have been, that is your own privilege. [...]

Now I want you to open your eyes and look about, to say those words that are on your lips, to unite with strong emotion and in most real and valid terms, in tears or in laughter, even in anger, in all those fresh, lively emotions that have their counterparts in many worlds. [...]

[...] We talked about other similar situations and things, and she was near tears at times — so there definitely is emotion there. [...]

[...] I wasn’t sure whether or not she’d let the tears come through. [...]

[...] There was a little shouting at me—very little—which I didn’t record, but no tears. [...]

[...] I gave Jane a card and candy, and brought in forsythia, which moved her to tears. [...]

[...] Such pain cannot be verbalized, for it is a mixture of pain and pleasure, a tearing free, and it automatically brings about an almost exhilarating release of consciousness. [...]