Book 1. (1 results) Tarnsman of Gor (Individual Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | 139 | I think I will carry its simple, abrupt message burned into the cells of my brain until, as it is elsewhere said, I have returned to the cities of dust. |
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Book 1. (7 results) Tarnsman of Gor (Context Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | 136 | It seemed my vision reeled; I couldn't move. |
| 1 | 137 | Things grew black for a moment, but I shook myself and clenched my teeth, breathed in the sharp, cold mountain air, once, twice, three times, slowly, gathering the piercing contact of reality into my lungs, reassuring myself that I was alive, not dreaming, that I held in my hands a letter with an incredible date, delivered more than three hundred years later in the mountains of New Hampshire, written by a man who presumably, if still alive, was, as we reckon time, no more than fifty years of age—my father. |
| 1 | 138 | Even now I can remember the letter to the last word. |
| 1 | 139 | I think I will carry its simple, abrupt message burned into the cells of my brain until, as it is elsewhere said, I have returned to the cities of dust. |
| 1 | 140 | The third day of February, in the Year of Our Lord 1640. |
| 1 | 141 | Tarl Cabot, Son: Forgive me, but I have little choice in these matters. |
| 1 | 142 | It has been decided. |
|
It seemed my vision reeled; I couldn't move.
Things grew black for a moment, but I shook myself and clenched my teeth, breathed in the sharp, cold mountain air, once, twice, three times, slowly, gathering the piercing contact of reality into my lungs, reassuring myself that I was alive, not dreaming, that I held in my hands a letter with an incredible date, delivered more than three hundred years later in the mountains of New Hampshire, written by a man who presumably, if still alive, was, as we reckon time, no more than fifty years of age—my father.
Even now I can remember the letter to the last word.
I think I will carry its simple, abrupt message burned into the cells of my brain until, as it is elsewhere said, I have returned to the cities of dust.
The third day of February, in the Year of Our Lord 1640.
Tarl Cabot, Son: Forgive me, but I have little choice in these matters.
It has been decided.
- (Tarnsman of Gor, Chapter 1)