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One hand stretched out to me, and the words, his own, far from the ringing authority of his former tones, were hoarse and almost inaudible. - (Outlaw of Gor, Chapter 5, Sentence #77)

I was now only in the presence of a man, a fellow human being even though he wore the sublime robes of the proud Caste of Initiates. He seemed to be struggling with himself, as though he wanted to speak his own words and not those of the Priest-Kings. He seemed to shake with pain, his hands pressed against his head, trying to speak to me, trying to tell me something. One hand stretched out to me, and the words, his own, far from the ringing authority of his former tones, were hoarse and almost inaudible. "Tarl of Ko-ro-ba," he said, "throw yourself upon your sword". He seemed ready to fall, and I held him. He looked into my eyes. - (Outlaw of Gor)