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I recalled that those of the dark caste, the caste of Assassins, were often sober fellows, often denying themselves much of what most prized as giving meaning to life. - (Swordsmen of Gor, Chapter 23, Sentence #207)

The girl was, after all, of slave interest. I glanced to the five fellows who, unnoticed by most, it seemed, had remained at the table, not drinking. One stood up, and looked about. I recalled that those of the dark caste, the caste of Assassins, were often sober fellows, often denying themselves much of what most prized as giving meaning to life. Theirs was a narrow, dark life. Few held slaves. Some, before the hunt, would use a woman, briefly, ruthlessly, unfeelingly, leaving her shuddering, crumpled, and broken, sobbing, at their feet, before honing the selected blade, one of six, before painting the dagger on their forehead, that crowds might part uneasily before them, that taverns might fall silent, that children might flee, that men might bolt their doors. - (Swordsmen of Gor)