“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

He lost his own wife, and was left with a highly neurotic and completely crippled daughter, for whom he cared for many years. The woman’s name as a man (pause) was Nicolo Vanguardi (my phonetic interpretation) and the daughter’s name was Rosalina. He resented the girl, and while he cared for her he did not do so kindly.

The father was thoroughly embittered. The daughter had left too late; he was too old. No one would have him. He had no one now to talk to, and he hated his daughter the more, and railed that she had forsaken him in his old age, after he had cared for her through the long years.

This time he plays that part and is completely immersed in it. There are connections. (Long pause.) John was the man with whom the daughter left. (Pause.) Now. (Pause.) John’s wife loves him, and has been made subconsciously to see the good points in his personality. In the past he hated the man who took away the daughter.

[...] If you were your father’s son, you were somewhere your father’s daughter, and it was at that point of reference that you encountered the dream situation. [...]

(Pause.) Your father’s sentence—the paper-bag reference—was one he actually made in his own mind, in the life that you actually knew him in, and he considered that sons rather than daughters represented his one physical triumph —that is, he believed sons preferable, and they alone compensated for a working man’s life—a life he felt did not befit him. [...]

A daughter, however, would have given him a beneficial relationship, someone with whom he could discuss such feelings, as he did with you in the dream. [...]

Jean Longwell then represented Frank’s feelings toward his daughter, and in a fashion you felt those as your own — a mixture of paternal love, sexuality, and sympathy. Those feelings were also representative of Del’s redeemed love for his daughter — for Ruburt.

[...] I was with Jean Longwell, the daughter of our friend Frank. [...]

Your dream was triggered specifically by Frank’s visit (yesterday noon), and his discussion about his daughter, Jean.

Her clothes were hand-me-downs from the daughter of the family, and since the maid was quite a few years younger than the daughter the clothes fit her poorly. She was glad to see the dissension between the father and the daughter. This time the present personality of the maid tries to make up for the jealousy, and for many quarrels that she initiated secretly between Throckmorton and his daughter, by malicious tattling and playing one member of the family against the other. [...]

They were drawn to each other because of those previous ties, and yet in that past life this daughter was extremely cruel, particularly in speech, to Throckmorton. [...] The young relative was very jealous of the older daughter for her position in the family, and for the dowry which was hers.

[...] She was the daughter of Throckmorton’s half sister. [...]

[...] It is for Timothy’s daughter, or rather it is to Timothy about his daughter’s request.

(Timothy Foote arrived by plane from New York City at about noon, and left at 4:30 PM, driving to Saratoga and Skidmore College to see his daughter. [...]

(Timothy told Jane that his 16-year-old daughter voiced two questions for Seth: “Is there a God? [...]

[...] Indeed, the daughter has only one conscious memory of seeing her mother on her feet. [...]

[...] Marie was a brilliant, angry woman who lived in near-constant pain, and who regularly abused her daughter through behavior that, if not psychotic, was certainly close to it. [...]

[...] Out of many possibilities, the daughter’s conditioning was psychically chosen and accepted, and through that focus she meant to interact with the mother’s behavior. [...]

[...] Your wife, your daughter-in-law and your son (all present this evening) were also members of that band. Your wife and your daughter-in-law, however, were brothers. [...]

Now: Since our little friend over here (Ron’s daughter-in-law, Sherry) is worried lest I annoy the neighbors (very loudly), I will smile what I hope is a gentle smile, and bid you a gentle good evening, with what blessings I have to give.

(They were married 28 years, and had a son and a daughter. [...] Malba doesn’t know where her daughter is, although not in S. Dakota. [...]

[...] The daughter was gone—had “run off somewheres.”

[...] Marian Spaziani has some, though slight, trouble with arthritis and it was her daughter who became ill mentally. Marian did not approve of her daughter’s companions. [...]

[...] (Muriel is the daughter of Marian and Jimmy.)

[...] A warmth that forms the very pulse of physical existence and yet is born from the devotion of our isolation; that is born from the creativity that is beyond flesh and bone, that forms fingers without feeling fingers, that forms seasons without knowing spring, that creates sand without knowing sand or ground, that creates the reality that you know without experiencing it, that forms fathers, sons and daughters and mothers without knowing what fathers and mothers and daughters and sons are, and yet from this devotion, from that creativity comes all that you know. [...]

[...] He lost his wife and was left with a highly neurotic crippled daughter for whom he cared for many years. As a man, Sally was called Nicolo Vanguardi [Rob’s phonetic interpretation] and the daughter was named Rosalina. [...]

[...] The daughter had left too late; he was too old; no one would have him, and now he had no one even to talk to. He hated his daughter the more and railed that she had forsaken him in his old age, after he had cared for her.”

“He wanted to remarry, but no one would have him because of the daughter. [...]

(As stated on page 21, Barbara did take her own daughter, Lisa, to visit Story Book Land, the subject of the postcard sent to us by Barbara, and used as the object in the 69th experiment. [...]

(This afternoon I’d suggested that she might like a word from Seth on her mother’s present situation—meaning that if her mother now had more insight as to her treatment of her daughter, this knowledge might help Jane feel better about her own reactions to her mother. [...]

[...] She let Ruburt know that she wanted a boy —a son—rather than a daughter to begin with. [...]

(Long pause at 9:10.) In a large manner, however, Marie’s daughter was always—somewhat, now—on the periphery of Marie’s life, and not at its center. [...]

(Seth spoke to F. Fell, who then asked Seth a question concerning his daughter’s safety on an upcoming trip to Europe.)

(Pause.) There is safety for the daughter.

(The older woman referred to by Seth is Virginia’s aunt, the younger is the aunt’s daughter-in-law. [...] The G, the Milligan’s said, refers to Geneva, where both the aunt and the daughter-in-law live. The daughter-in-law, Virginia said, is “rather thin,” as stated by Seth.

[...] Perhaps, though I am not sure, a daughter or sister. [...]

[...] In the dream also were an Oriental-looking mother, not too old, with a nice-looking daughter who had beautiful slanting eyes and a very quiet demeanor. [...]

[...] I reminded her of the Oriental woman and daughter in the dream, since Seth hadn’t mentioned them. [...]

[...] Recently Marian’s daughter wrote what Marian considered to be an excellent composition on the poet Donne; the quality was exceptional, according to Marian, and she typed up the paper for her daughter to take to school. [...]

(A few days later, before a class which contained Marian’s daughter, the same teacher burst into tears without apparent cause, and fled the room. The daughter told Marian. [...]

[...] The teacher was much embarrassed, appeared to be very upset, and finally said she thought the daughter had copied the paper from other sources. [...]

(To Gert regarding her daughter.) Now, do not browbeat her. [...]

(“Did Jane know about the death of Otto Binder’s daughter?”)

[...] We learned about the death of Otto’s daughter Mary, on a conscious level, this week when we bought a recent book by Otto on flying saucers, and read the dedication. [...]

[...] A woman’s death, not your own, or your daughter in 1968. [...]