Catch-22

by Joseph Heller

The Texan turned out to be good-natured, generous and likable. In three days no one could stand him.

“Murderer,” Dunbar said quietly. The Texan looked up at him with an uncertain grin. “Killer,” Yossarian said. What are you fellas talkin” about?” the Texan asked nervously. “You murdered him,” said Dunbar. “You killed him,” said Yossarian. The Texan shrank back. “You fellas are crazy. I didn’t even touch him.” “You murdered him,” said Dunbar. “I heard you kill him,” said Yossarian.

“Nately had a bad start. He came from a good family.”

outside the hospital the war was still going on. Men went mad and were rewarded with medals. All over the world, boys on every side of the bomb line were laying down their lives for what they had been told was their country, and no one seemed to mind, least of all the boys who were laying down their young lives. There was no end in sight. The only end in sight was Yossarian’s own,

Everything Appleby did, he did well. Appleby was a fair-haired boy from Iowa who believed in God, Motherhood and the American Way of Life, without ever thinking about any of them, and everybody who knew him liked him. “I hate that son of a bitch,” Yossarian growled.

The dead man in Yossarian’s tent was simply not easy to live with.

that it was neither possible nor necessary to educate people who never questioned anything.

Dunbar loved shooting skeet because he hated every minute of it and the time passed so slowly.