Catch-22 did not exist, he was positive of that, but it made no difference. What did matter was that everyone thought it existed, and that was much worse, for there was no object or text to ridicule or refute, to accuse, criticize, attack, amend, hate, revile, spit at, rip to shreds, trample upon or burn up.

I had examined myself pretty thoroughly and discovered that I was unfit for military service.

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?

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

I wouldn't want to live without strong misgivings.

Suppose everyone on our side felt that way?

I’m cold,' Snowden said softly, 'I’m cold.' 'You’re going to be all right, kid,' Yossarian reassured him with a grin. 'You’re going to be all right.' 'I’m cold,' Snowden said again in a frail, childlike voice. 'I’m cold.' 'There, there,' Yossarian said, because he did not know what else to say. 'There, there.' 'I’m cold,' Snowden whimpered. 'I’m cold.' 'There, there. There, there.