A letter Neville received from a successful writer friend in Los Angeles, recounting a dream in which he observed all the infinite states of man contained in a prone form, saw Sunset Boulevard frozen until he animated it by taking a step, then found himself frozen at a party and escaped by shifting the focus of his attention back above.

He received a letter that week from a man who described a series of dreams in one night, the last of which was a huge horrible monkey clinging to his back which he tore off as it began to make love to him.

He received a letter that week from a friend present at the lecture, who twelve years earlier dreamed he was strapped lengthwise along the back of a bull, feet on its head, looking up at the sky, and had wondered ever since what it meant; Neville reads it as being strapped to the back of the creator.

The same friend told him some months earlier of a dream in which, after events below deck including falling in love with a Negress though happily married to a Caucasian woman, he came up on deck to find the ship setting sail toward the mainland - which Neville read as going home.

Neville recounts a vision his wife gave him two months earlier: they lived in a palatial apartment in a police state, hosting six dinner guests at a time; he explained to the guests the way of escape while they were already at their destination, and searchers who came never found anyone.

A friend in the audience told Neville a dream in which he and his wife saw the world coming to an end — an unearthly wind, rays like a flood, the earth shaking — and Neville reads it as an adumbration of the coming inner event.

Another friend present that night told him she heard a voice, seeing no one, which said she would be called and sent and would not return.

A woman friend who was in the audience that night told Neville how, visiting friends in Pittsburgh the previous November, she used imagination on behalf of a man who had worked 27 years for Jones & Laughlin and feared being laid off - and then the unpublished interview appeared in a trade magazine in December, and the firm announced it would spend 13 million dollars modernizing the plant and recall the 4,000 workers from January 1st.

A man in the audience wrote Neville a letter this week, saying he had been at the previous Friday's lecture where a lady asked about the historical Jesus, and asking whether Neville denies the historicity of Jesus as he would not deny that of Lincoln or Washington; Neville answers the letter from the platform because writing back would take too long and he has no secretary.

A woman in the audience told Neville how her son called from Toronto where he had gone to avoid the draft; the mother realised she herself had caused it by an imaginal act, dropped it, and the son reconsidered, returned, and entered the army that very night.

A Japanese gardener named Henry, who had always pretended not to understand English, spoke fluently and proudly to Neville about the newspaper picture of his son at UCLA fitting artificial arms to handicapped people.

A lady telephoned Neville this week, thrilled but disturbed by his previous Monday night lecture in which he had spoken highly of Judas the betrayer, arguing that no one could betray a man without knowing his secret.

A friend Neville had taught the law and sent to lecture in San Francisco refused money to a drunken beggar and instead imagined him gainfully employed; a week later the man thanked him, having taken a job the very next day.

A woman friend telephoned Neville that morning, badly disturbed: she has an unusually keen ear and had 'played back' a male neighbour's request to be rid of a disturbing family next door, and within days that couple was killed on the highway leaving three children; Neville told her she had done nothing wrong, only exercised the principle.

His friend Bill Machgan told him of a dream, a week old, in which he lay at the base of a huge tree while a great leashed dog barked at him; a fiery outlined being of light came down with the dog, unleashed it and melted into him, whereupon he ran to the topmost room and the dog came in and licked his face. Neville tells him the dog is the Hound of Heaven and that Christ is now his intimate companion.

His friend Sharon, present at the lecture, told him that on reading a new edition of The Lost Books of the Bible and Forgotten Books of Eden she found recorded there her own experience at fourteen, when at the dinner table her mother offered her a glass of milk and time stood still, her parents and sister frozen; she fled to her bed in tears, and on turning the pages to escape the book she read the line from Ode 19 of the Odes of Solomon about a cup of milk offered and drunk.

A friend of Neville's, Mrs. Niemeyer, heard him tell the rose story at a New York lecture, imagined embracing a huge bouquet of roses, and that night found three dozen long-stemmed Beauties in her room at the Waldorf Astoria towers — left over from an English-Speaking Union banquet for Queen Elizabeth, sent up by the head waiter because she loved roses.

A friend who came out with his brother and lacked any education beyond high school was told by Neville to assume he was already Purchasing Agent of Culver City; the law requiring a college degree was rearranged and he was appointed, effective July.

Grace Roosevelt was killed instantly in a car crash at about 73, her husband driving and unhurt; she rarely attended his meetings because as a pillar of the Episcopal Church it would have looked like slumming, but always came to his home with a problem.

A grandmother told Neville how her three-year-old granddaughter, seeing piles driven into the sand at the beach, called them 'sticks bathing' — Neville's example of Blake's double vision.