Book 4. (1 results) Nomads of Gor (Individual Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 3 | 134 | "Ho!" I heard, and spun to see the black lance fall and scarcely had it moved but it was seized in the fist of the scarred tuchuk warrior. |
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Book 4. (7 results) Nomads of Gor (Context Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 3 | 131 | Now, also, for the first time, I could clearly smell the herd, a rich, vast, fresh, musky, pervasive odor, compounded of trampled grass and torn earth, of the dung, urine and sweat of perhaps more than a million beasts. |
| 3 | 132 | The magnificent vitality of that smell, so offensive to some, astonished and thrilled me; it spoke to me of the insurgence and the swell of life itself, ebullient, raw, overflowing, unconquerable, primitive, shuffling, smelling, basic, animal, stamping, snorting, moving, an avalanche of tissue and blood and splendor, a glorious, insistent, invincible cataract of breathing and walking and seeing and feeling on the sweet, flowing, windswept mothering earth. |
| 3 | 133 | And it was in that instant that I sensed what the bosk might mean to the Wagon Peoples. |
| 3 | 134 | "Ho!" I heard, and spun to see the black lance fall and scarcely had it moved but it was seized in the fist of the scarred tuchuk warrior. |
| 4 | 1 | The Outcome of Spear Gambling The tuchuk warrior lifted the lance in triumph, in the same instant slipping his fist into the retention knot and kicking the roweled heels of his boots into the silken flanks of his mount, the animal springing towards me and the rider in the same movement, as if one with the beast, leaning down from the saddle, lance slightly lowered, charging. |
| 4 | 2 | The slender, flexible wand of the lance tore at the seven-layered Gorean shield, striking a spark from the brass rim binding it, as the man had lunged at my head. |
| 4 | 3 | I had not cast the spear. |
|
Now, also, for the first time, I could clearly smell the herd, a rich, vast, fresh, musky, pervasive odor, compounded of trampled grass and torn earth, of the dung, urine and sweat of perhaps more than a million beasts.
The magnificent vitality of that smell, so offensive to some, astonished and thrilled me; it spoke to me of the insurgence and the swell of life itself, ebullient, raw, overflowing, unconquerable, primitive, shuffling, smelling, basic, animal, stamping, snorting, moving, an avalanche of tissue and blood and splendor, a glorious, insistent, invincible cataract of breathing and walking and seeing and feeling on the sweet, flowing, windswept mothering earth.
And it was in that instant that I sensed what the bosk might mean to the Wagon Peoples.
"Ho!" I heard, and spun to see the black lance fall and scarcely had it moved but it was seized in the fist of the scarred tuchuk warrior.
The Outcome of Spear Gambling The tuchuk warrior lifted the lance in triumph, in the same instant slipping his fist into the retention knot and kicking the roweled heels of his boots into the silken flanks of his mount, the animal springing towards me and the rider in the same movement, as if one with the beast, leaning down from the saddle, lance slightly lowered, charging.
The slender, flexible wand of the lance tore at the seven-layered Gorean shield, striking a spark from the brass rim binding it, as the man had lunged at my head.
I had not cast the spear.
- (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 3)