It Is The Anonymous "they," The Enigmatic

Her Own Body Was Such A Familiar And Unremarkable Thing To Her That She Was Puzzled By The Convulsive Ecstasy Men Could Take From It, By The Intense And Amusing Need They Had Merely To Touch It, To Reach Out Urgently And Press It, Squeeze It, Pinch It, Rub It. She Did Not Understand Yossarian's Lust; But She Was Willing To Take Is Word For It.

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.

Men Went Mad And Were Rewarded With Medals.

When I Look Up, I See People Cashing In. I Don't See Heaven Or Saints Or Angels. I See People Cashing In On Every Decent Impulse And Every Human Tragedy.

The Captain Was A Good Chess Player, And The Games Were Always Interesting. Yossarian Had Stopped Playing Chess With Him Because The Games Were So Interesting They Were Foolish.