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I supposed there might be tidal waves in distant Thassa, that crags in the Sardar and the Voltai and Thentis Ranges might be collapsing, that mountains might be falling and new ones rising, that the Sa-Tarna fields might be broken apart, that towers of cities might be falling, that the ring of black logs which encircled the Sardar might rupture and burst open in a hundred places. - (Priest-Kings of Gor, Chapter 31, Sentence #182)

It did not seem to me a bad place to die. If I had dared to take my eyes from Sarm I might have looked about at the wonder of the Nest and the destruction in which it was being consumed. Drifts of rock powder hung in the air, fitted stone tumbled to the flooring far below, the walls trembled, the very globe and walkway fastened to it seemed to shift and shudder. I supposed there might be tidal waves in distant Thassa, that crags in the Sardar and the Voltai and Thentis Ranges might be collapsing, that mountains might be falling and new ones rising, that the sa-tarna fields might be broken apart, that towers of cities might be falling, that the ring of black logs which encircled the Sardar might rupture and burst open in a hundred places. I imagined the panic in the cities of Gor, the pitching ships at sea, the stampedes of animals, and only I, of all humans, was at the place where this havoc had begun, only I was there to gaze upon the author of the destruction of a world, the golden destroyer of a planet. "Strike," I said. "Be done with it". - (Priest-Kings of Gor, Chapter 31)