Slaughterhouse-Five

by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

All time is all time. It does not change. It does not lend itself to warnings or explanations. It simply is.

“How nice—to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.”

Spooning was a crime.

But it was too early in the evening for programs that allowed people with peculiar opinions to speak out. It was only a little after eight o’clock, so all the shows were about silliness or murder. So it goes.