Book 28. (1 results) Kur of Gor (Individual Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 77 | 281 | "You cannot View more quotes about escape">escape," said Flavion, grinning, lurching after Cabot. |
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Book 28. (7 results) Kur of Gor (Context Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 77 | 278 | A swift flight of this mighty tool swept toward Cabot and he sprang back. |
| 77 | 279 | Such a blow would have cut off two legs. |
| 77 | 280 | It could have split apart the palings of the stockade, could have shattered the gate of the compound into a dozen pieces. |
| 77 | 281 | "You cannot escape," said Flavion, grinning, lurching after Cabot. |
| 77 | 282 | "How long can you run, little thing? Do you call that little stick you carry an ax? You cannot even reach me with it! You are human! I am Kur! Close with me! Close with me! Hold still! Stand! Fight!" Cabot circled, as he could, to the left, looking for an opening, but now Flavion held the ax more closely, was more guarded in his movements, in his strokes, even poked at Cabot, trying to force him backward, to fall, or to pin him against the palings. |
| 77 | 283 | The slave, braceleted at the post, jerked and jerked at the snug steel on her wrists. |
| 77 | 284 | The links of the chain joining the bracelets scraped again and again at the iron ring, and pulled futilely against it, but her frenzied efforts were not in the least availing. |
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A swift flight of this mighty tool swept toward Cabot and he sprang back.
Such a blow would have cut off two legs.
It could have split apart the palings of the stockade, could have shattered the gate of the compound into a dozen pieces.
"You cannot escape," said Flavion, grinning, lurching after Cabot.
"How long can you run, little thing? Do you call that little stick you carry an ax? You cannot even reach me with it! You are human! I am Kur! Close with me! Close with me! Hold still! Stand! Fight!" Cabot circled, as he could, to the left, looking for an opening, but now Flavion held the ax more closely, was more guarded in his movements, in his strokes, even poked at Cabot, trying to force him backward, to fall, or to pin him against the palings.
The slave, braceleted at the post, jerked and jerked at the snug steel on her wrists.
The links of the chain joining the bracelets scraped again and again at the iron ring, and pulled futilely against it, but her frenzied efforts were not in the least availing.
- (Kur of Gor)