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She is no longer something vague, uncertain, confused, free-floating, unanchored, intangible, a nothing, a troubled, unhappy cipher, humanly meaningless, something without purpose, without definition, without direction. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 11, Sentence #187)

Certainly in her case, it was easy to note, indeed, one had but to look in the mirror, that her master had not seen fit to exempt her from that apparently optional mercantile and social convenience, from bearing, it burned nicely into her thigh, that lovely, small, simple token of her condition. To be sure, it has its effects on the slave, as well. It impresses upon her that she is a slave, no more than a marked property, and this understanding profoundly affects her concept of herself, that she is only, but exactly, slave, giving it, perhaps to her terror and misery, structure, identity, depth, substance and meaning. She is no longer something vague, uncertain, confused, free-floating, unanchored, intangible, a nothing, a troubled, unhappy cipher, humanly meaningless, something without purpose, without definition, without direction. She is now something, and very precisely so. It informs her sense of her own body, its richness, vulnerability and beauty; it affects her thoughts, her feelings, her needs, her emotions, her entire existence. She now knows herself, in the very depths of her heart, something—slave. - (Prize of Gor)