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"He is as loyal as the stones of the Central Cylinder itself". - (Mercenaries of Gor, Chapter 21, Sentence #139)

Such things are not uncommon amongst idealists, so tender and thoughtful, so loving and trusting, prisoners of verbalisms, dazzled by inventions and dreams, projecting their own benevolence unto the larl and the forests, skeptical of reality, construing the world in the metaphor of the flower. What consolation is it for others if they should eventually discover that they live in a world of facts, if disillusioned they should eventually recognize their errors, living to see the harvests of their own foolishness, living to see their civilization split asunder, to see their world fall bleeding under the knives of power and reality? "What of Seremides, the high general?" I asked. "Might he not ascend the throne?" "Unthinkable," said the man. "He is as loyal as the stones of the Central Cylinder itself". "I see," I said. My question had not been prompted, of course, merely by the obvious consideration that the ubar's cloak might seem an attractive prize to a strong, ambitious man, but by the sober understanding that Ar was in a situation of crisis, whether she knew it or not. In such times, of course, in the light of the failures and ineffectuality of an inept civilian administration, it is not unknown for military men, seeing what must be done, simply responding to the imperatives of survival, to take power and attempt to instill the will, the discipline and order without which catastrophe cannot be diverted. - (Mercenaries of Gor)