All through the night, men looked at the sky and were saddened by the stars.

Yossarian decided to change the subject. "Now you're changing the subject." he pointed out diplomatically. "I'll bet I can name two things to be miserable about for every one you can name to be thankful for.

From men motivated by moral certitude, history teaches, no lasting good ever comes.

It made him proud that 29 months in the service had not blunted his genius for ineptitude.

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.

... there is wisdom in madness and strong probability of truth in all accusations, for people are complete, and everyone is capable of everything.

Under Colonel Korn's rule, the only people permitted to ask questions were those who never did.