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Something stirred in me, obscure, painful memories that had been silent, quiet for many years—the memory of a woman I had barely known, of a gentle face, of arms that had protected a child who had awakened frightened in the night. - (Tarnsman of Gor, Chapter 2, Sentence #69)

Yet, somehow, in spite of these things, I found that I wanted to cross the room, to put my hand on his arm, to touch him. I felt somehow a kinship with him, with this stranger and his sorrow. My eyes were moist. Something stirred in me, obscure, painful memories that had been silent, quiet for many years—the memory of a woman I had barely known, of a gentle face, of arms that had protected a child who had awakened frightened in the night. And I remembered suddenly another face, behind hers. "Father," I said. He straightened and turned to face me across that simple, strange room. - (Tarnsman of Gor)