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It suddenly seemed to me that Vika was a bit heavier than she had been and I told myself that I must be tiring. - (Priest-Kings of Gor, Chapter 33, Sentence #17)

Even from where we stood I could smell the innumerable fires of their sacrifices, the burning flesh of bosks, smell the heady fumes of the incense they burned in brass censers swinging on chains, hear the repetitious litanies of their pleas, observe their continual prostrations and grovelings by which they sought to make themselves and their petitions pleasing to Priest-Kings. I swept Vika again to my arms and, half walking, half floating, made my way downward toward the ruins of the gate. There was a great shout from the crowd when they saw us, and then there was enormous quiet and every pair of eyes in that teeming throng was fixed upon us. It suddenly seemed to me that Vika was a bit heavier than she had been and I told myself that I must be tiring. I descended with Vika from the trail and, as I floated down to the bottom of a small crevice between the trail and the gate, the bottoms of my sandals stung when I hit the rock. I had apparently slightly misjudged the distance. The top of the crevice was only about thirty feet away. - (Priest-Kings of Gor)