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Horror coursed through the ranks of the assembled Priest-Kings and their antennae waved wildly and their golden frames shook with rage, and hundreds of them must have simultaneously turned on their translators for I heard almost immediately from everywhere before me the contrastingly calm translation of their threats and protests. - (Priest-Kings of Gor, Chapter 27, Sentence #194)

At that instant I kicked loose the grille on the ventilator shaft and uttering the war cry of Ko-ro-ba sprang to the Platform of the Mother and in another instant had leaped between Sarm and Misk, my sword drawn. "Hold, Priest-King!" I cried. Never before had a human set foot in this chamber and I knew not if I had committed sacrilege but I did not care, for my friend was in danger. Horror coursed through the ranks of the assembled Priest-Kings and their antennae waved wildly and their golden frames shook with rage, and hundreds of them must have simultaneously turned on their translators for I heard almost immediately from everywhere before me the contrastingly calm translation of their threats and protests. Among the words I heard were "He must die," "Kill him," "Death to the Mul". I almost had to smile in spite of myself for the unmoved, unemotional emissions of the translators seemed so much at odds with the visible agitation of the Priest-Kings and the dire import of their messages. But then, from the Mother herself, behind me, I sensed once again the transmission of negation, and I heard on the translators that faced me, the simple expression "No". - (Priest-Kings of Gor)