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Knew I so little of Gor? What man would be fool enough to care for a slave? How he would be mocked by his peers! Would he not be the butt of many a merry jest? Chagrined he might, for a time, avoid the gymnasium, the baths, the gaming tables, the tarn races, the song dramas. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 51, Sentence #345)

"Please do not sell me!" I begged. "We shall see," he said. Could he care for me, I wondered, wildly, if only a little? Then I chastised myself for so naive and absurd a thought. Knew I so little of Gor? What man would be fool enough to care for a slave? How he would be mocked by his peers! Would he not be the butt of many a merry jest? Chagrined he might, for a time, avoid the gymnasium, the baths, the gaming tables, the tarn races, the song dramas. Consider the dinners, the jokes, the gestures, the laughter! How amusing would be the very thought itself, a master, caring for a slave! I looked up at him. I saw in his eyes how he looked at me, a slave, at his feet. "I beg to be kept," I said. - (Plunder of Gor)