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"sword "

Book 1. (1 results) Tarnsman of Gor (Individual Quote)

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)
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.

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)