Book 1. (1 results) Tarnsman of Gor (Individual Quote)
Chapter #
Sentence #
Quote
3
187
During my training with the sword, the Older Tarl cut me unpleasantly a number of times, shouting out, annoyingly enough, I thought, "You are dead!" At last, near the end of my training, I managed to break through his guard and, pulling my stroke, to drive my blade against his chest.
During my training with the sword, the Older Tarl cut me unpleasantly a number of times, shouting out, annoyingly enough, I thought, "You are dead!" At last, near the end of my training, I managed to break through his guard and, pulling my stroke, to drive my blade against his chest.
- (Tarnsman of Gor, Chapter 3, Sentence #187)
Book 1. (7 results) Tarnsman of Gor (Context Quote)
Chapter #
Sentence #
Quote
3
184
I had belonged to a fencing club at Oxford and had fenced for sport and pleasure at the college in New Hampshire, but this current business was serious.
3
185
Once again, I was supposed to learn to wield the weapon equally well with either hand, but, again, I could never manage to develop the skill to my genuine satisfaction.
3
186
I acknowledged to myself that I was inveterately, stubbornly right-handed, for better or worse.
3
187
During my training with the sword, the Older Tarl cut me unpleasantly a number of times, shouting out, annoyingly enough, I thought, "You are dead!" At last, near the end of my training, I managed to break through his guard and, pulling my stroke, to drive my blade against his chest.
3
188
I withdrew it bright with his blood.
3
189
He flung down his sword with a crash on the stone tiles and clasped me to his bleeding chest, laughing.
3
190
"I am dead!" he shouted in triumph.
I had belonged to a fencing club at Oxford and had fenced for sport and pleasure at the college in New Hampshire, but this current business was serious.
Once again, I was supposed to learn to wield the weapon equally well with either hand, but, again, I could never manage to develop the skill to my genuine satisfaction.
I acknowledged to myself that I was inveterately, stubbornly right-handed, for better or worse.
During my training with the sword, the Older Tarl cut me unpleasantly a number of times, shouting out, annoyingly enough, I thought, "You are dead!" At last, near the end of my training, I managed to break through his guard and, pulling my stroke, to drive my blade against his chest.
I withdrew it bright with his blood.
He flung down his sword with a crash on the stone tiles and clasped me to his bleeding chest, laughing.
"I am dead!" he shouted in triumph.
- (Tarnsman of Gor, Chapter 3)