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It was, I suppose, the Kal-da, but I like to think, too, it was just impatience with the males of Tharna, the intemperate expression of my exasperation with this gray, dismal place, its glum, solemn, listless inhabitants. - (Outlaw of Gor, Chapter 9, Sentence #121)

I took another long swig of Kal-da and shook my head to throw the swirling fire from eyes and brain. I seized my spear from the wall and pounded it on the table. "If you cannot talk," I said, "if you cannot laugh, then sing!" They were convinced they were in the presence of one demented. It was, I suppose, the Kal-da, but I like to think, too, it was just impatience with the males of Tharna, the intemperate expression of my exasperation with this gray, dismal place, its glum, solemn, listless inhabitants. The men of Tharna refused to budge from their silence. "Do we not speak the Language?" I asked, referring to the beautiful mother tongue spoken in common by most of the Gorean cities. "Is the Language not yours?" I demanded. - (Outlaw of Gor)