name the book

[genrex]

"The important thing," I said, "is that Aphris is back and safe." We rode on for a while more. Then I asked, "By the way, what did you pay for her?"

Kamchak's face was black with rage. He looked at Harold, who smiled innocently and questioningly, and then at me, who was only honestly curious. Kamchak's hands were like white clubs knotted on the reins of the kaiila. "Ten thousand bars of gold," he said.

I stopped the kaiila and regarded him, astounded. Harold began to pound his saddle and howl with laughter.

Kamchak's eyes, had they been jets of fire, would have frizzled the young, blond Tuchuk in his saddle.

"Well, well," I said, a certain regrettable malicious elation perhaps unfortunately detectable in my voice.

Now Kamchak's eyes would have frizzled me as well.

Then a wry glint of amusement sparkled in the Tuchuk's eyes and the furrowed face wrinkled into a sheepish grin. "Yes," he said, "Tarl Cabot, I did not know until then that I was a fool.”

[emcon5]

Don't know which one, but Tarl Cabot makes it on of the Gor books. Nomads maybe? It has been damn near 30 years since I read them.

[genrex]

Yes, Nomads of Gor. Cheers!

[emcon5]

It is amazing the utterly useless crap taking up space in my melon. I have to count on my fingers to figure out how old I am, but I remember a book I read in the 8th grade.

[Z-man]

Originally Posted by emcon5

It is amazing the utterly useless crap taking up space in my melon. I have to count on my fingers to figure out how old I am, but I remember a book I read in the 8th grade.

Agreed. And to that point:

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time. Out out brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

- Or something like that!

Edit -- I left out a sentence. Full quote is:

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out out brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

-Z

[genrex]

I love Shakespeare!!! That is Macbeth...

Proud man, dressed in brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he's most assured,
His glassy essence, like an angry ape
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As makes the angels weep.

(and the moderators)

- Shakespeare, “Measure for Measure”