Book 27. (1 results) Prize of Gor (Individual Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 19 | 723 | She View more quotes about looked">looked up at the three moons. |
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Book 27. (7 results) Prize of Gor (Context Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 19 | 720 | To be sure, she was only a slave. |
| 19 | 721 | I hate him, I hate him, she thought. |
| 19 | 722 | He is so Gorean! He is not like the sweet, pleasant, conquered men of Earth! He does not respect women! He does not treat us with tenderness and gentleness, he does not give us our due of solicitation! He does not care for our feelings! He dominates and masters us! He is the sort of man who looks upon us as though we were horses, he with a riding crop in his hand! What have we to hope from such men, other than to remove our clothing and kneel before them, hoping to please them? Later Ellen stood again in the basket, and watched, as she could, part of the blanket beneath her feet, the rest clutched about her, shielding her from the wind and cold, the passing countryside beneath her. |
| 19 | 723 | She looked up at the three moons. |
| 19 | 724 | They are so beautiful, she thought. |
| 19 | 725 | This is such a beautiful world. |
| 19 | 726 | As she stood there, the wind whistling about her, her hair blowing in the wind, the wing strokes of the great winged beast above her, deliberate, measured, she felt the tag wired to her collar. |
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To be sure, she was only a slave.
I hate him, I hate him, she thought.
He is so Gorean! He is not like the sweet, pleasant, conquered men of Earth! He does not respect women! He does not treat us with tenderness and gentleness, he does not give us our due of solicitation! He does not care for our feelings! He dominates and masters us! He is the sort of man who looks upon us as though we were horses, he with a riding crop in his hand! What have we to hope from such men, other than to remove our clothing and kneel before them, hoping to please them? Later Ellen stood again in the basket, and watched, as she could, part of the blanket beneath her feet, the rest clutched about her, shielding her from the wind and cold, the passing countryside beneath her.
She looked up at the three moons.
They are so beautiful, she thought.
This is such a beautiful world.
As she stood there, the wind whistling about her, her hair blowing in the wind, the wing strokes of the great winged beast above her, deliberate, measured, she felt the tag wired to her collar.
- (Prize of Gor)