“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] A conventional relationship, perhaps a wife and two daughters (pause) or a wife and two sisters. (Pause.) The name Erickson is mentioned, and a trip of his, I believe a projected trip.

Could it be his wife’s birthday perhaps? [...]

[...] It was a joke on Don Wilbur; Don and his wife, Marilyn, visited us that Friday evening and I showed them the sketch. [...]

[...] It is a spoof on Don Wilbur—"Young Donny"—and I showed it to Don and his wife, Marilyn, when they visited us that evening. [...]

[...] Jane said this was her way of getting at a connection with Don Wilbur’s wife, Marilyn. [...]

[...] A possible reference: M for Marilyn Wilbur, wife of the young Don Wilbur shown on the object; and G for the Gallaghers. [...]

(Or when I HAVE decided to get better and improve, I’d change my mind at any “danger”; or I’d get better awhile to make Rob feel better when I think he’d rather just have a normal wife. [...] What other wife could do that? [...]

[...] How could watching my wife hobble along possibly be considered a fair price to pay for privacy? [...]

You are afraid of releasing your energy into your work, for fear it will carry you beyond all ordinary relationships—simply because your father’s creativity seemed to cut him off from his wife and sons, and to lead to isolation. [...]

[...] Darlene did help return Jane to 330, and showed the others how to put my wife back in bed. [...]

[...] The situation reminded me of my wife’s strong secretive streak in her makeup—one much like mine, I thought. [...]

[...] His wife is freer, and feels she can rely upon him to help her structure any psychic experiences of her own. [...]

(John Fuller is to visit us with his wife next Wednesday evening, to interview Jane for an article he is writing on survival. [...]

(On Sunday, May 18, John Pitre called Jane from Franklin, Louisiana and asked that Seth hold a session for his wife Peg; she is in the hospital, in poor condition, with muscular dystrophy. [...]

[...] Jane said she was aware of wanting to contact John’s wife Peg during these travels, without the experience being “unpleasant” for either of them...

His wife has already established contacts in another reality. [...]

[...] Jon and his wife were both in their early twenties. I’ll call his wife Sally. [...]

“The husband should follow this exercise three times a day: He should imagine the energy and vitality of the universe filling his wife’s form with health. [...]

“Do not manufacture hollow false assurances, but honestly and persistently remind yourself that the physical matter of your wife’s image is filled with and formed by universal energy. [...]

[...] He lost his wife and was left with a highly neurotic crippled daughter for whom he cared for many years. [...]

[...] I thought that even my wife would be forced to agree to such a move. [...]

[...] Such is my wife’s pitiable state at this time. [...]

[...] I can tell that she’s appalled at my wife’s condition, and said outright that she’s not doing Jane any good at all any more. [...]

[...] By now my wife had thrashed back and forth in her chair—not violently—telling me often that I had to help her; she certainly acted disoriented. [...]

[...] Carol had a name tag for my wife. [...]

[...] Once again, it was strange indeed to see my wife able to move her body in such a free fashion. [...]

(It was time to turn my wife on her left side for half an hour, then take my nap. [...]

[...] Ruburt tried in the family to express independence, to show that he was (underlined) a writer, and at the same time he tried to express dependence, to show that he was a good wife, and this applied to many social relationships as well. If he succeeded as a writer, it seemed he was less the loyal wife, and sometimes in the past—the distant past—you felt the same when you tried to be “the male provider,” and take a job to satisfy that narrow role. [...]

[...] To appear as a good wife Ruburt had to appear less a thinker, less a writer, so that you each followed double standards for yourselves, each trying to appear to express completely different characteristics. [...]

There seem to be five women with whom your wife will be involved on a Thursday afternoon. [...]

(John verified Seth’s material regarding his wife, Mary Ellen. [...]

([John:] “Can you tell me something about the future of the business endeavor for my wife?”)

[...] My mother, who now lives with Dick and his wife and family, made the trip back with Jane and me as far as the parking lot at Enfield Glen, Ithaca, where we met my other brother, Loren. [...] She is to spend a couple of weeks with Loren and his wife Betts before returning to Rochester.

[...] He talked about owning more land, farms, etc., and that what he has, with his wife, represents a compromise as far as acreage, the house, commuting distance, etc., is concerned. [...]

[...] And the fact that my wife is having a better night may mean something, or not … I’d told her this afternoon that I’d been prepared to receive a call from the hospital at any time, telling me to get my ass down there because my wife was failing and the end was near. [...]

[...] “Oh, your singing is so clear and sweet!” her visiting nurse had exclaimed the other day, when my wife had begun to sing while the nurse was changing the dressings on her decubiti. [...]

[...] On the psychological level, you need to know why the relationship between you and your wife continued as it was for so many years. [...]

([Florence;] “If we have relationships in our lives which are emotionally necessary—as Seth said was the case with Brad and his wife...”

([Jane:] “Brad should look into the reasons why he felt it necessary to stay with his wife.”

([Florence:] “So it would be necessary for Margo [Brad’s wife] to change too.”)

[...] Fred means you and your wife no harm....” [...]

[...] “Fred means you and your wife no harm at all,” he said, speaking for Seth again. [...]

[...] He’s given us those books and manuscripts” —I pointed to them, stacked up on the picnic table—“and he wants my wife to read them. [...]

[...] I groped for words to express my anger, for watching my wife cry certainly aroused strong feelings within me. [...]

[...] My wife was already plunging in, then. [...]

[...] Majurak—last name—ended up in what is now Warsaw—a trader, a merchant—4 children —a French wife—earlier in 1242—a Dutch existence. [...]

[...] She was his wife in the past life, when he died at 32. [...]