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I wonder if there are any left upon you now who can tear their way through the tapes of their conditioning programs and see reality clearly, vividly. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 30, Sentence #620)

So I would not expect this manuscript to be published on my old world. Who would dare to do so? Who would take the risk? Alas, Earth, that world, how beautiful you might have been! How sadly you tread now toward your gray future, toward the goal of the beehive, toward the ideal of the ant heap. Strange how democracy has come to be the choice between six and six, and twelve. I wonder if there are any left upon you now who can tear their way through the tapes of their conditioning programs and see reality clearly, vividly. Are there any left upon you now who can think for themselves? Must truth and reason be forever denied; must honesty be always outlawed? How strange it is to hail free speech and then make certain, simultaneously, that it shall not exist. I wonder if there are any individuals left on you now, or are there only the gangs, the masses and their masters? But let me put aside such tragic thoughts. Earth is no longer my world. - (Prize of Gor)