Book 1. (1 results) Tarnsman of Gor (Individual Quote)
Chapter #
Sentence #
Quote
6
14
In a moment he had taken flight again, bawling out some semblance of a song about the woes of a camp girl, the bag of paga, flying behind him, dangling from its long straps.
In a moment he had taken flight again, bawling out some semblance of a song about the woes of a camp girl, the bag of paga, flying behind him, dangling from its long straps.
- (Tarnsman of Gor, Chapter 6, Sentence #14)
Book 1. (7 results) Tarnsman of Gor (Context Quote)
Chapter #
Sentence #
Quote
6
11
"May the Priest-Kings blast your bones," I shouted, as cheerfully as I could, adding, for good measure, "and may you thrive upon the excrement of tharlarions!" The latter recommendation, with its allusion to the loathed riding lizards used by many of the primitive clans of Gor, seemed to please him.
6
12
"May your tarn lose its feathers," he roared, slapping his thigh, bringing his tarn to rest on the perch.
6
13
He leaned over and tossed me a skin bag of paga, from which I took a long swig, then hurled it contemptuously back into his arms.
6
14
In a moment he had taken flight again, bawling out some semblance of a song about the woes of a camp girl, the bag of paga, flying behind him, dangling from its long straps.
6
15
Like most Gor compasses, mine contained a chronometer, and I took the compass, turned it over, and pressed the tab that would snap open the back and reveal the dial.
6
16
It was two minutes past the twentieth hour! Vanished were my thoughts of escape and desertion.
6
17
I abruptly forced my tarn into flight, streaking for the tower of the Ubar.
"May the Priest-Kings blast your bones," I shouted, as cheerfully as I could, adding, for good measure, "and may you thrive upon the excrement of tharlarions!" The latter recommendation, with its allusion to the loathed riding lizards used by many of the primitive clans of Gor, seemed to please him.
"May your tarn lose its feathers," he roared, slapping his thigh, bringing his tarn to rest on the perch.
He leaned over and tossed me a skin bag of paga, from which I took a long swig, then hurled it contemptuously back into his arms.
In a moment he had taken flight again, bawling out some semblance of a song about the woes of a camp girl, the bag of paga, flying behind him, dangling from its long straps.
Like most Gor compasses, mine contained a chronometer, and I took the compass, turned it over, and pressed the tab that would snap open the back and reveal the dial.
It was two minutes past the twentieth hour! Vanished were my thoughts of escape and desertion.
I abruptly forced my tarn into flight, streaking for the tower of the Ubar.
- (Tarnsman of Gor, Chapter 6)