History Was A Trash Bag Of Random

It Doesn't Make A Damned Bit Of Difference Who Wins The War To Someone Who's Dead.

They Couldn't Keep Death Out, But While She Was In She Had To Act Like A Lady.

Just For Once I'd Like To See All These Things Sort Of Straightened Out, With Each Person Getting Exactly What He Deserves. It Might Give Me Some Confidence In This Universe.

Well Then I'd Certainly Be A Damned Fool To Feel Any Other Way, Wouldn't I?

Who's They?" He Wanted To Know. "who, Specifically, Do You Think Is Trying To Murder You?" "every One Of Them," Yossarian Told Him. "every One Of Whom?" "every One Of Whom Do You Think?" "i Haven't Any Idea." "then How Do You Know They Aren't?" "because..." Clevinger Sputtered, And Turned Speechless With Frustration. Clevinger Really Thought He Was Right, But Yossarian Had Proof, Because Strangers He Didn't Know Shot At Him With Cannons Every Time He Flew Up Into The Air To Drop Bombs On Them, And It Wasn't Funny At All.