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She feels the sun on her skin, and the wind, and the grass at her ankles. - (Tribesmen of Gor, Chapter 24, Sentence #65)

That is what she is, and there is nothing that can be done about it. How totally different then does the world appear to her! How totally different then, wonderingly, does she appear to herself! How paradoxically free then, how strangely liberated, does she find herself! She throws open the windows, and breathes fresh air. She forces open the doors and runs outside. She feels the sun on her skin, and the wind, and the grass at her ankles. She lifts her hands and face and body to the sun and wind, come home at last, after years of banishment, to nature's world. She is now, for the first time in her life, free to accept and embrace her deepest and truest identity, her ancient selected-for biological identity, as old as the raid, the hunt in the forest, the cave and leather thongs, the decree of nature, the fruit of evolution's wisdom, that of the lover, captive and slave of a master. Many women, of course, know themselves slaves and weep for masters, long before the collar or iron. - (Tribesmen of Gor)