“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] The village wasn’t sunny, and they kept the windows closed. There weren’t many windows anyway. [...]

[...] It wasn’t ventilated, and there were no windows.

“There were windows in the front room, though, and benches and a stone floor. [...]

[...] The windows blew out and the color of the flames was fantastic.

[...] The plate glass windows blew out, and all of this was in the news. [...]

[...] The light was on, and the windows dark. [...]

[...] Before it had faced the window. [...]

[...] We offer this: Miss Callahan has a nice view from her apartment windows. She spends much of her day sitting at a window admiring the view, and never fails to mention it when Jane visits her. [...]

[...] Most of the time she stared directly at me, using many gestures, speaking with many smiles and in a voice often somewhat heavier than usual because of our open windows.

[...] Seth’s reference to open windows came because Jane had opened a window during last break when the room got stuffy from cigarette smoke. [...]

[...] Believe it or not, I actually look forward to your spring and summer, and while traffic may bother you in the summer, I will find the air from the open windows most enjoyable.

[...] With oval brick arches out in front of the windows. [...]

[...] The arched windows, Miss Healy’s. The date the approximate date the house was built.

[...] I glanced out the window and saw the ground bare of snow, and thought that I wouldn’t have to shovel snow. [...]

(We had the window open and the curtains pulled shut against a bright sun as session time approached. [...]

[...] The day was very warm—almost 65 degrees—and sunny, the room was hot with the curtains closed, although both windows were open and the fan was on in the air conditioner/register. [...]

[...] I had the fan on, the curtains pulled back and the windows open so we could hear the sounds of traffic below. [...]

[...] Many insects had accumulated on the screens of our living room windows, and a few had gotten inside the room. [...]

[...] I went to the kitchen window, opened the screen and tossed the insect free. [...]

(Now Willy sat quietly at the open window, staring out into the night.)

(We had the fan on and the windows wide open, although it wasn’t that hot outside. [...]

[...] Then I squeeze out all those things as I hold the sponge out a window; the afflictions soak into the ground where they’re transformed into positive energy and attributes.

[...] She felt hot and uncomfortable, even though a window was wide open and the blower on [the air conditioning aspect of the blower has evidently been turned off for the winter by the hospital]. [...]

[...] I will try to put this as simply as possible: There is within his psyche what amounts to a transparent dimensional warp that serves almost like an open window through which other realities can be perceived, a multidimensional opening that has to some extent escaped being clouded over by the shade of physical focus.

(The windows were wide open and a refreshing breeze filled 330 as Jane went into trance. [...]

(The window was closed but there was no heat again in 330, even though it had been “fixed” by changing the thermostat. [...]

(“From my desk in my study I faced the windows of our small kitchen. [...] With my inner sight I felt that one of those forms, sturdy and impossibly massive, might bend down and with his gigantic face peek into my kitchen window … though I was also aware that all of this was my interpretation of what I was receiving.

[...] (Pause.) A long wall without windows is in it. [...] Opposite the long wall, a wall with several windows. [...]

You have rationalized your window arrangement. You have the windows covered (with the plastic winter weatherproofing material) as a self-punishment. [...]

[...] Jane saw Seth’s painting move, intact, to and then through our large center window in the living room.

(The gesturing hand in the painting beckoned to me in three-dimensional form, Jane said, as the painting moved through the window—this was a clear invitation to me to project, accompanied and guided by Seth. [...]

[...] Startled, I went to the window, hardly able to believe my eyes. [...] I stood at the window and dashed out this poem — far too emotionally unrestrained to be aesthetically a good one but an excellent example of my feelings at the time.

We had no idea then that I would be involved in still more startling episodes with Miss Cunningham, but I grinned, looking out the window. [...]