“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] The geography of our kitchen in apartment four is such that noise can evidently seep through a closet wall in the bedroom and so is quite easily heard. [...]

You should not, and I repeat this, grow panicky at the thought of distortions occurring, simply because to expect no distortions is just as unrealistic, and would send you flying headlong against an eventual wall of disillusion. [...]

[...] But when you try to relate this idea to the universe as you know it, you find yourself up against a brick wall, for what you seem to see out in the universe is indeed space.

[...] Between them on the wall was a drawing of Jane’s, matted in a gray-white matte perhaps three inches wide. [...]

[...] She insisted on a black wall phone, in the face of the company’s efforts to sell her more expensive colored phones, etc. [...]

[...] Knocking on wall from below awakened me in the middle of this.

[...] I’m as tall as the ceiling, trying to knock the walls down … I’m not understanding what’s going on very well. [...]

[...] I rattled off a string of impressions about them sitting in a long narrow restaurant, and described their surroundings in some detail, including such things as wall lamps, etc. [...]

[...] Don took the picture of the ceramic cat as it sat on a brick wall cutting across grass as indicated in the tracing on page 206. [...]

[...] I saw no details of their surroundings, not even walls. [...]

In fact, I take back my suggestion about dining in the kitchen, lest he pull out a wall for the purpose. [...]

[...] Space itself already speaks of a creation “begun,” for no matter how empty space may seem to be it simply appears like a vast cathedral, or tent or pyramid of form, for the moment perhaps vacant inside, with walls so distant that they go unperceived.

[...] If we don’t see some pretty drastic improvements within the next few sessions, you may end up talking to the wall if you [...]

[...] His sign is fastened to the wall of the house beside an office door, beneath a porch roof, and would not be readable, probably, from a passing car.

(Howard bought a small tempera of mine picturing two apples; and then to Jane’s surprise he bought off the wall of our apartment a small abstract oil that Jane and I had produced jointly, in a humorous attempt at working together. [...]

You could have shortened the uncomfortable circumstances in which Ruburt found himself involved, you could have lessened the wall of stupidity that Ruburt tried to climb.

[...] Before him he saw a wall of books, and the self in the living room suddenly knew that his purpose here in this reality was to re-create some of those books. [...]

[...] You erect barriers like walls—so that someone wanting to communicate with you cannot get through, cannot find a “hole” in your conversation to reach you. [...]

[...] If I stood up I felt as if I’d go flying through the wall, propelled by this force. [...]

[...] I sensed walls, barriers, and complications there. [...]

[...] Then comes a smaller room that we had used as a bedroom, with one window in the back wall of the house. [...]

[...] When I came home from the hospital for the last time in a year and 9 months, John went to Jane’s room 330 and very carefully gathered up all of the belongings and artifacts we had accumulated there and brought them to me in 1730: my paintings and drawings, the letters from readers that I had put up on the walls (the hospital never complained), the session notebooks for The Way Toward Health, our books and magazines and newspapers and clothes, the flowers and other gifts from readers and from some of the nurses—all of those things that seem to accumulate almost by themselves as one seeks to create a home wherever that may be.

In Note 2 for the 936th session, I also described how the NRC had asked the operators of certain nuclear power plants to check for cracks in the vessel walls of their pressurized-water reactors, which are the kind installed at TMI. [...]