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On Earth I had dismissed her, even pitied her, poor, plain Paula, and considered myself far superior to her in beauty. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 19, Sentence #137)

I then lay down, again, at the foot of the couch, on my chain, and drew my blanket about me. I was muchly uneasy. How could I be sold for more than one or two silver tarsks, at best? How could I, one such as I, even a barbarian, have greater value than my likely block price? How could that be? I recalled Paula. On Earth I had dismissed her, even pitied her, poor, plain Paula, and considered myself far superior to her in beauty. Then I had heard it said that she was the beauty of our shipment, and had heard it speculated that she might bring as many as five silver pieces, presumably silver tarsks, in a first sale, that she might be marketed on a high block in the Curulean, perhaps even from the Central Block. And what then of me, poor thing that I might be, assessed as a copper-tarsk girl, a pot girl, a kettle-and-mat girl? What had I to hope for, on this beautiful, perilous world? How subject we are to our masters! The whip is theirs. Who would bid more for me than perhaps two silver tarsks? How could I, a slave, be of more value than that, if that? I was to be sold. - (Plunder of Gor)