“Flee!” she said.
“I am of the Warriors,” I said.
“But you may die,” she said.
“That is acknowledged in the codes,” I said.
“What are the codes?” she asked.
“They are nothing and, and everything,” I said. “They are a bit of noise, and the steel of the heart. They are meaningless, and all significant. They are the difference. Without the codes men would be Kurii.”
“Kurii?” she asked.
“Beasts, such as ice beasts, and worse,” I said.
“Beasts such as the face you saw in the sky.”
“You need not keep the codes,” she said.
“I once betrayed my codes,” I said. “It is not my intention to do so again.” I looked at her. “One does not know, truly what it is to stand, until one has fallen. Once one has fallen, then one knows, you see, what it is to stand.”
“None would know if you betrayed the codes,” she said.

“I would know,” I said, “and I am of the Warriors.”
“What is it to be a warrior?” she asked.
“It is to keep the codes,” I said. “You may think that to be a warrior is to be large, or strong, and to be skilled with weapons, to have a blade at your hip, to know the grasp of the spear, to wear the scarlet, to know the fitting of the iron helm upon one’s countenance, but these are things are not truly needful; they are not, truly what makes one man a warrior and another not. Many men are strong, and large, and skilled with weapons. Any man might, if he dared, don the scarlet and gird himself with weapons. Any man might place upon his brow the helm of iron. But it is not the scarlet, not the steel, not the helm which makes a warrior.”
She looked at me.
“It is the codes,” I said.

“Abandon your codes,” she said. “One does not speak to slaves of the codes,” I said.
(Beasts of Gor, pg 340)

"The men of Gor," she said, "are strong. They are not weak and divided against themselves. They are not tortured. They are integrated and coherent, and proud. They see themselves in the order of nature. They see females as females, as slaves, and themselves as men, as masters. If we do not please them they punish us, or slay us. We quickly learn our place in the order of things. Only where there are true men can there be true women." (Rogue of Gor, pg 100)

I sat there in the darkness and wondered on honor, and courage. If they were shams, I thought them most precious shams. How else could we tell ourselves from urts and sleens? What distinguishes us from such beasts? The ability to multiply and subtract, to tell lies, to make knives? No, I think particularly it is the sense of honor, and the will to hold one's ground. (Marauders of Gor, pg 6)

“But let us not speak of slaves,” I said, “girls who serve for our diversion or recreation, but of serious matters. of the concerns of men.”
“Agreed,” said he.
There was a time for slaves, and a time for matters of importance.
(Explorers of Gor, pg 15)

"I am a man," I said.
"No," she said, "you are only a silk slave."
She looked down at me. "Indeed," she said, "you are a male of the world called Earth. You are fit, thus, only to be a woman's property." (Fighting Slave of Gor, Ch 17)