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"There is a certain resemblance between yourself and my friend Tarl Cabot," Harold was saying, "save that your swordplay is decidedly inferior to his. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 21, Sentence #297)

The man on my left now began to move around me to my left while the other continued to press me from the front. It should have been done seconds ago. I stepped back, getting my back to the wagon, trying to keep their steel from me. "There is a certain resemblance between yourself and my friend Tarl Cabot," Harold was saying, "save that your swordplay is decidedly inferior to his. Also he was of the Caste of Warriors and would not permit himself to be seen on his funeral pyre in the robes of so low a caste as that of the Bakers. Moreover, his hair was red—like a larl from the sun—whereas yours is a rather common and, if I may say so, a rather uninspired black". I managed to slip my blade through the ribs of one man and twist to avoid the thrust of the other. - (Nomads of Gor)