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Yes, I thought, yes! It was the sort of blade to which one might grow accustomed, the sort of blade to which one might entrust one's life, placing its sharp, narrow wall of agile metal between oneself and death. - (Mariners of Gor, Chapter 9, Sentence #272)

It bore the ship's mark, the Tau, for the ship of Tersites. I had little doubt it had been removed, stolen, from a weapon room, perhaps from the very one we had found ransacked, and nearly emptied, save for destroyed arms. I brandished it, sensing the heft, the weight, the balance. Yes, I thought, yes! It was the sort of blade to which one might grow accustomed, the sort of blade to which one might entrust one's life, placing its sharp, narrow wall of agile metal between oneself and death. Cabot grinned. "See that you use it honestly!" he called. He had armed me. - (Mariners of Gor)