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Then without warning, with a bitter laugh, at once a lament and a cry of rage, he hurled the glass violently to the wall. - (Outlaw of Gor, Chapter 1, Sentence #103)

"What does that mean?" I asked, my words fumbling a bit, blurred by the liquor, made unsteady by my fear. "It means," laughed Cabot, a mirthless laugh, "—to the Priest-Kings of Gor!" He rose unsteadily. He seemed tall, strange, almost of another world in that subdued light, in that quiet atmosphere of small, genial civilized noises. Then without warning, with a bitter laugh, at once a lament and a cry of rage, he hurled the glass violently to the wall. It shattered into a million sporadic gleaming fragments, shocking the place into a moment of supreme silence. And in that sudden instant of startled, awe-struck silence, I heard him clearly, intensely, repeat in a hoarse whisper that strange phrase, "Ta-Sardar-Gor!" The bartender, a heavy, soft-faced man, waddled to the table. One of his fat hands nervously clutched a short leather truncheon, weighted with shot. - (Outlaw of Gor)