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.

The night was full of horrors, and he thought he knew how Christ must have felt as he walked through the world, like a psychiatrist through a ward full of nuts.

The enemy," retorted Yossarian with weighted precision, "is anybody who's going to get you killed, no matter which side he's on, and that includes Colonel Cathcart. And don't you forget that, because the longer you remember it, the longer you might live.

Gold was not altogether certain what, anatomically, a gorge was, but he knew that his was rising.

When I read something saying I've not done anything as good as 'Catch-22' I'm tempted to reply, 'Who has?'

Suppose everyone on our side felt that way?

Major Major never sees anyone in his office while he's in his office.