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The weather, the tides, the circulation of the blood are without ideology; they are themselves, clean, innocent, and honest. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 25, Sentence #247)

What has she to justify herself, save reality, blood, and need? I knew what I had been taught, in a thousand ways, a thousand times. Why had it seemed to me so false, and so alien, even on my former dismal, unhappy, polluted, awry world? What were its motivations, what ends did it seek, whose programs was it intended to promote? Surely not mine, surely none I recognized or found congenial. Is it appropriate that a culture be founded on division, and hate? Nature denied is nature poisoned. The weather, the tides, the circulation of the blood are without ideology; they are themselves, clean, innocent, and honest. Would it be so wrong, I wondered, for humans, too, to be themselves? It was now late in the afternoon. I was no longer sure how far I might be from Shipcamp, and the Alexandra. Let the great ship sail. - (Smugglers of Gor)