I Had Examined Myself Pretty Thoroughly And

All Of Our Religions But The Judaic And The Greek Think More Of Us Dead Than Alive.

Someone Had To Do Something Sometime. Every Victim Was A Culprit, Every Culprit A Victim, And Somebody Had To Stand Up Sometime To Try To Break The Lousy Chain Of Inherited Habit That Was Imperiling Them All.

Yossarian Was Cold, Too, And Shivering Uncontrollably. He Felt Goose Pimples Clacking All Over Him As He Gazed Down Despondently At The Grim Secret Snowden Had Spilled All Over The Messy Floor. It Was Easy To Read The Message In His Entrails. Man Was Matter, That Was Snowden's Secret. Drop Him Out A Window And He'll Fall. Set Fire To Him And He'll Burn. Bury Him And He'll Rot, Like Other Kinds Of Garbage. The Spirit Gone, Man Is Garbage. That Was Snowden's Secret. Ripeness Was All. I'm Cold,' Snowden Said. 'i'm Cold.

When I Grow Up I Want To Be A Little Boy.

So Many Things Were Testing His Faith. There Was The Bible, Of Course, But The Bible Was A Book, And So Were Bleak House, Treasure Island, Ethan Frome And The Last Of The Mohicans. Did It Then Seem Probable, As He Had Once Overheard Dunbar Ask, That The Answers To Riddles Of Creation Would Be Supplied By People Too Ignorant To Understand The Mechanics Of Rainfall? Had Almighty God, In All His Infinite Wisdom, Really Been Afraid That Men Six Thousand Years Ago Would Succeed In Building A Tower To Heaven?