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I had no desire to be cast from the height of the delta wall into the jaws of waiting, clustered, thrashing tharlarion, churning about, anticipating fighting for a part of the wall's offering. - (Quarry of Gor, Chapter 37, Sentence #97)

For a moment I could not move, for fear. It was she who had not pitied me in the tunic of fire, she who had subjected me to the stifling, acrid, horrid fumes of interrogation, she who had wanted me cast from the delta wall to tharlarion, she who had tried to buy me at the Lesser Al-Ka Market, doubtless to fulfil the murderous intention which had been frustrated by Addison Steele, reluctant to "waste a slave". I broke into a wild, desperate run, away, anything to escape she who styled herself Dorna of Tharna. I had no desire to be cast from the height of the delta wall into the jaws of waiting, clustered, thrashing tharlarion, churning about, anticipating fighting for a part of the wall's offering. "Hold!" she shrieked. I could easily outrun Dorna, encumbered as she was in the voluminous splendor of the multicolored robes of concealment. Such garmenture attests to importance, dignity, station, honor, and display; too, it may intrigue the curious, appraising male to speculate about the wonders and treasures it may conceal; but it does little for freedom of movement, say, on occasions in which a fleet departure might be advisable. - (Quarry of Gor)