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So one man can kill another? Is that so important? Is that so precious an accomplishment, a guerdon to be so earnestly sought? Should one not turn one's back on so absurd a game, scorning its madness, and yet few Goreans care being denounced as cowards. - (Quarry of Gor, Chapter 29, Sentence #14)

Each city has its first swordsman. Some, misguided youths or itinerant killers, will venture from city to city, from village to village, to seek out one whose reputation they covet and would own. One need only feign insult, and blades leap forth from sheaths. So one man can kill another? Is that so important? Is that so precious an accomplishment, a guerdon to be so earnestly sought? Should one not turn one's back on so absurd a game, scorning its madness, and yet few Goreans care being denounced as cowards. Perhaps things would be different, but swordsmen have their followers, and followers demand their champions. How foolish men are. What does it matter that one might be the provably, indisputably best at one thing or another, in a city, on a continent, or on a world? How thoughtless, unquestioned, and cruel are the imperatives of vanity! What are the vanities of women, free or slave, compared to the vanities of men, and yet we are not without fault, for we watch, and the men know we watch. - (Quarry of Gor)