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I thought of the delta of the Vosk, and the disaster which had occurred there, and of the veterans returned from the delta. - (Magicians of Gor, Chapter 28, Sentence #85)

Sometimes at night, I did not doubt, she would start at some small noise, and lie there in the darkness, wondering if she were alone. Or perhaps I had come for my slave, with gag and bonds, to claim her. I considered Ar, and its condition. I thought of the delta of the Vosk, and the disaster which had occurred there, and of the veterans returned from the delta. How angry I was, even though I was not of Ar, that they had, for all their loyalty and sacrifice, for all their service, courage and devotion, received little but scorn and neglect from their compatriots, a scorn and neglect engineered by factions hoping to profit from the perversities of such politics, using them to further their own ends, among these ends being to put Ar and those of Ar into a condition of even greater weakness and confusion, to undermine their will and sap their pride, to put Ar and those of Ar even more at the mercy of their enemies. And interestingly, it seemed that many of Ar, particularly the young, the less experienced, the more gullible, the more innocent, and, too, perhaps, the most fearful of hardship, responsibility and danger, and their attendant risks, those unaccustomed to such things, those who had always received and never given, those who had never sacrificed anything, were among those most ready to lap up the sops of Cos, clinging to excuses for their cowardice, indeed, commending their lack of courage as a new virtue, a new, and improved, convenient courage. Yet how unfair was this to the perceptive young, piercing the propaganda, scorning the public boards, recognizing without being told what was being done to them and their city, smarting with shame, burning with indignation, recollective of Ar's glory, the young in whom flowed the blood of their fathers, and the hope of the city's future. - (Magicians of Gor)