“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

That was the last time that I grew up, in what was a town called Triev.

[...] For your information Joseph, I was born in that existence in the year approximately 1486, and lived most of that life in the town called Triev, in the eastern part of the country, as a merchant dealing in spices.

[...] Mansfield is a college town about seventy miles distant. [...] In addition, my father was born in Wellsboro PA., a small town perhaps twenty miles beyond Mansfield. [...]

In our ceaseless search for answers to an unending list of personal questions, we discussed the notion that in her own way Jane has described a circle from her childhood: Her parents, Marie and Delmer, were married in Saratoga Springs, a well-known resort town in upper New York State, in 1928. [...]

[...] Mother and child were supported by welfare, and assisted over the years by a series of itinerant housekeepers—a number of these were prostitutes who, according to Jane, were periodically thrown out of “work” when town officials would shut down the “houses,” try to clean up gambling, and so forth. [...]

[...] You may say, “I was born in a house on a certain street in a certain town, and no present belief to the contrary will change that fact.” [...]

[...] Ruburt first of all thought of how he could get his socks and shoes on, but then he tried to overcome those thoughts, and imagine the trip.(Sayre, PA—my home town.)

(“In what town or city in England did Dick die?”

A connection with another location, perhaps out of this town. [...]

(At first Jane and I thought that the out of town location applied to our going to Sayre yesterday. [...]

(“In what city or town, or province, etc., did you die?”)

Town. [...]

[...] Approximately five years after this, the oldest sister went to France; first to a small town outside of Paris and then to Paris, where she lived with French relatives. [...]

(It was John Bradley, a medical-salesman friend whom we saw occasionally when he was in town. [...]

As for myself, I think I’ve had some good results keeping informed through the dream state about people and events in my home town of Sayre, which lies just across the New York State border in Pennsylvania, and is only 18 miles from the hill house in Elmira. [...]

[...] For the past week she has been visiting a relative who lives on Underwood Avenue here in town—not much more than a stone’s throw away. [...]

[...] His identity was discovered, however, and he and a band of men took to caves that were between Damascus and another nearby town, much smaller, that had been used at one time as a fortress. [...]

[...] Whether these are initials, say of a town or a person, or the beginning of the word spring, I do not know. [...]

[...] They have an apartment here in town, and her mother lives on Middle Avenue. I’d like to see the place where she grew up—it’s not far out of our way out of town...” [...]

[...] He lived alone in rented rooms and worked at various jobs in town; he was a doorman, a watchman. [...]

[...] I preferred the small-town life, but had about exhausted my professional options after doing medical illustrations for the local but well-known Robert Packer Hospital (some drawings won prizes in traveling exhibitions), working briefly in radio, painting signs, and so forth. [...]

[...] She said that if she happened to be in Schuylerville during the day she’d stop in at Ed’s studio in town and say hello. [...]

[...] Sayre, PA is my home town, 15 miles from Elmira, NY.)

[...] “Wow, he’s going to town tonight,” she exclaimed. [...]

(Interestingly, my informant about Fred, who was probably connected with the Mansfield College in some way, had been in the town only since 1971. [...]

[...] The walk is in front of the trailer the Wilburs inhabit in a nearby small town.

[...] We speculate that mission here refers to Don’s trip to our apartment last April 4, from his out-of-town residence, to tell us that he and his wife could not attend the 248th session after all; on this visit he gave us the object used this evening.

If a car were not available even long walks through various parts of town, with say lunch in various strange dining places, would do. [...]

The towns represent to you that different kind of orientation, however. [...]