“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] As a matter of fact, at the same time your brother, Loren, was looking out the window of your father’s shop [across the way] and saw nothing.”

(Our windows are now usually open, with the advent of better weather. [...]

[...] However, since it was a cold evening our windows were closed, and the house itself was very quiet. [...]

Later in your time all of you will look down into the physical system like giants peering through small windows at the others now in your position, and smile. [...]

About the same time that the idea of the unsavory subconscious arose so strongly, the idea of the soul went out the window. [...]

[...] You may at times wish that a rainy day were a sunny one, but you do not stand at the window and deny that the rain is falling, or that the air is cold and the sky dark.

[...] The window was closed, for my hay fever bothered me most of the day. [...]

If your idea of protecting your talent could be transferred to a plant, you would keep it in a corner, a dark one, in a room in which no one could enter, and spend your time worrying about drafts, no matter how well you had closed the windows and doors.

[...] She rises before dawn and makes herself “a simple quick breakfast” — just so she can read, make some notes, and watch the sky lightening outside the kitchen window. [...]

[...] It is quite successful, and depicts an elderly, rotund, bald man standing by a window through which strong light streams. [...]

Then, last night, I stood at the window and looked out across the Walnut Street Bridge. [...]

[...] There are no windows to escape through, he feels, no available roof. [...]

[...] She added that she thought their teacher was standing at the table by the windows. [...]

[...] She told me that the water would reach its highest level late that afternoon; incredibly, it would become almost ten feet deep in the yard and reach halfway up the first-floor windows of the house next to ours. [...]

[...] It was a warm night for the end of October, and we had the windows open, the traffic noise from the busy intersection just one house removed was bothering me more than anything else.)

[...] Traffic noise was a problem once more; our windows of course had to be open, although the blinds were drawn. [...]

[...] Traffic noise was not a problem, the windows being closed because of the cool night. [...]

[...] He had me stand with my head out of the kitchen window in the cold night air, but nothing seemed to help. [...]

[...] Stand at the window and throw out your arms. [...]

[...] (Ed was the name of BT’s first husband, she told Jane over the phone.) A middle name beginning with B, or his nickname with a B who worked in a building that from the outside looks like a large (pause), building almost entirely of unbroken plate glass windows on the ground floor, such as those that cars might be displayed in. [...]