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In my old world I had been told I was important, as one tells everyone in that world, but I had not been, of course. - (Witness of Gor, Chapter 8, Sentence #593)

I was less than nothing within it. I thought of my old world, and its buildings, its streets, its roads, its signs, its crowding, its people, so many of them so wonderful, so precious, so many of them so miserable and sad, their mode of dress, now seemingly so unnatural, or eccentric, the vanities, the hostilities, the offensive, disgusting mindlessness of its materialism, the abuse of serious intellect and genuine feeling, the sense of emptiness and alienation, the destructive, pathetic search of so many for toxic stimulants, the banal electronic gaudiness, the unwillingness to look within, or ahead, the culture of selfishness, comfort and distraction. I was not then so disappointed to be where I was. In my old world I had been told I was important, as one tells everyone in that world, but I had not been, of course. Here I knew I was not important, but hoped that I might, sometime, mean at least a little to someone. One need not be important, you see, not at all, for that to be the case. But how terrible was this world! In it I had once actually been put in a collar, a steel collar, which I could not remove! How I had treasured it! Oh, there were dangers here, doubtless. - (Witness of Gor)