“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I’d ordered a turkey dinner to go with Jane’s. They weren’t bad, although my pie was left off the order. [...]

[...] I was of course amazed, since the parents weren’t due back from Florida ‘till May.

As with so many instances, these weren’t esoteric startling visions, but a kind of in-between event, difficult to identify, or one like the following, that was second-handed. [...]

[...] We agreed that they represented fears on our parts — that they weren’t literal or precognitive in any sense.)

(1. Jane’s eyes: They weren’t good today, after yesterday’s rather spectacular, if intermittent, improvements. [...]

[...] I was angry that our readers weren’t helping out by buying the book.

[...] We weren’t interrupted. [...]

[...] Peg and Bill weren’t in sight, though. [...]

[...] But with the envelope tests we weren’t trying to convince scientists or psychologists of anything. [...]

[...] The idea of a “cure” upset me, if it was available and we weren’t trying it. [...]

[...] My own interpretation, I told Jane now, was the same is it had been then—that since the checks looked so small, it meant they weren’t that physically close to us yet—in other words, a waiting period was involved in which, hopefully, they’d move closer and closer to us. [...]

[...] They weren’t so tight; I repeated that I wanted to feel the tension drain out of the backs of her hands. [...]

[...] They weren’t closed off from each other as apartments usually are, so that the numerous tenants could have free interchange with each other if they chose to. [...]

[...] Were you an artist, or weren’t you? [...]

[...] We weren’t getting any news from back East. [...]

(The last two sessions are highly interesting, but weren’t devoted to book dictation. [...]

“This thing will never work,” I said.
“We must be out of our minds,”
But we weren’t, at least not yet.
The cat smiled but didn’t say anything.

“Her parents weren’t there, and Sarah didn’t live there either!”

[...] There weren’t many windows anyway. [...]

Because we were so innocent about psychic literature, we weren’t hampered by superstitious fears about such phenomena. [...]

[...] Obviously, they weren’t intruders in the usual sense, and they were not at all threatening. [...]

[...] We thought they might have left while we weren’t watching them. [...]

Seth told us that such images have a definite reality, but we certainly weren’t prepared to hear that someone else encountered our York Beach selves in a dream! [...]

[...] But we weren’t finished yet, and I doubt that we are now. [...]

[...] We talked about how strange it was that no one had been in yet to take her blood pressure and pulse — not that it would have mattered if they weren’t taken. [...]

[...] The interludes weren’t recorded, to my regret. [...]

[...] My muscles weren’t magically healing themselves, nor was I undergoing any kind of overall healing that might confound my own beliefs, or those of medical science. [...]

[...] Anyhow, on her own she said that the Oriental women further represented to Joe Bumbalo his ideas that son John’s abilities weren’t American—that, indeed, they were unAmerican, foreign to male sexuality, feminine. [...]