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In the streets I hear the shouting, the song and clamor that is typically Gorean. - (Outlaw of Gor, Chapter 26, Sentence #43)

On market day I saw a peasant, his sack of Sa-Tarna meal on his back, whose sandals were tied with silver straps. I have seen private apartments with tapestries from the mills of Ar upon the walls; and my sandals have sometimes found underfoot richly colored, deeply woven rugs from distant Tor. It is perhaps a small thing to see on the belt of an artisan a silver buckle of the style worn in mountainous Thentis or to note the delicacy of dried eels from Port Kar in the marketplace, but these things, small though they are, speak to me of a new Tharna. In the streets I hear the shouting, the song and clamor that is typically Gorean. The marketplace is no longer simply some acres of tile on which business must be dourly conducted. It is a place where friends meet, arrange dinners, exchange invitations, discuss politics, the weather, strategy, philosophy and the management of slave girls. One change that I find of interest, though I cannot heartily approve, is that the rails have been removed from the high bridges of Tharna. - (Outlaw of Gor)