A Man's Head Is His Castle.

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.

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

There Was Only One Catch And That Was Catch22, Which Specified That A Concern For One's Safety In The Face Of Dangers That Were Real And Immediate Was The Process Of A Rational Mind. Orr Was Crazy And Could Be Grounded. All He Had To Do Was Ask, And As Soon As He Did, He Would No Longer Be Crazy And Would Have To Fly More Missions. Orr Would Be Crazy To Fly More Missions And Sane If He Didn't, But If He Was Sane He Had To Fly Them. If He Flew Them He Was Crazy And Didn't Have To; But If He Didn't Want To He Was Sane And Had To.

Maybe A Long Life Does Have To Be Filled With Many Unpleasant Conditions If It's To Seem Long. But In That Event, Who Wants One?

¨ Oh, I´m Not Complaining. I Know There´s A War On. I Know A Lot Of People Are Going To Have To Suffer For Us To Win It. But Why Must I Be One Of Them?¨