Book 28. (1 results) Kur of Gor (Individual Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 67 | 141 | Is not each the artist and designer of the other? Does not each, in his way, make the other more beautiful? And thus are played out the dark games of the Nameless One. |
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Book 28. (7 results) Kur of Gor (Context Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 67 | 138 | It is not an inexplicable happenstance that foods which nourish beasts tend to have an agreeable taste to them and those unlikely to nourish them tend to have a disagreeable taste to them. |
| 67 | 139 | The tastes may originally have been randomly allotted in a population, distributed with indifference, but the consequences of these tastes would weigh quite differently in the scales of life and death. |
| 67 | 140 | A trail of misery and death in one case, and of health and vitality in another, lies at the roots, here and elsewhere, of what might seem to be a thousand matters of coincidence, but are no more coincidences, or inexplicable accidents, than the scimitarlike sharpness of the larl's fangs, or the erratic, bounding fleetness of the tabuk. |
| 67 | 141 | Is not each the artist and designer of the other? Does not each, in his way, make the other more beautiful? And thus are played out the dark games of the Nameless One. |
| 67 | 142 | The meat was not yet bitter, and so Cabot supposed it edible, if not palatable. |
| 67 | 143 | Once the cadaverine alkaloids are formed not even the flocking, despised jard will feed. |
| 67 | 144 | Cabot pretended to partake a bit of the meat and Ramar, the giant arena sleen, lamed in the left hind leg from a steel-toothed trap, began to tear at it contentedly, holding it down with his paws, and pulling at it, bit by bit, with his teeth. |
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It is not an inexplicable happenstance that foods which nourish beasts tend to have an agreeable taste to them and those unlikely to nourish them tend to have a disagreeable taste to them.
The tastes may originally have been randomly allotted in a population, distributed with indifference, but the consequences of these tastes would weigh quite differently in the scales of life and death.
A trail of misery and death in one case, and of health and vitality in another, lies at the roots, here and elsewhere, of what might seem to be a thousand matters of coincidence, but are no more coincidences, or inexplicable accidents, than the scimitarlike sharpness of the larl's fangs, or the erratic, bounding fleetness of the tabuk.
Is not each the artist and designer of the other? Does not each, in his way, make the other more beautiful? And thus are played out the dark games of the Nameless One.
The meat was not yet bitter, and so Cabot supposed it edible, if not palatable.
Once the cadaverine alkaloids are formed not even the flocking, despised jard will feed.
Cabot pretended to partake a bit of the meat and Ramar, the giant arena sleen, lamed in the left hind leg from a steel-toothed trap, began to tear at it contentedly, holding it down with his paws, and pulling at it, bit by bit, with his teeth.
- (Kur of Gor, Chapter 67)