Doc Daneeka was Yossarian's friend and would do just about nothing in his power to help him.
Joseph HellerShooting skeet eight hours a month was excellent training for them. It trained them to shoot skeet.
Joseph HellerAll you've got to do is lie there a few minutes and die a little.
Joseph HellerHe made so many people uneasy. Everyone was always very friendly toward him, and no one was ever very nice; everyone spoke to him, and no one ever said anything.
Joseph HellerHis response to them [women] as sexual beings was one of frenzied worship and idolatry. They were lovely, satisfying, maddening manifestations of the miraculous, instruments of pleasure too powerful to be measured, too keen to be endured, and too exquisite to be intended for employment by base, unworthy man.
Joseph HellerThe only end in sight was Yossarian's own, and he might have remained in the hospital until doomsday had it not been for that patriotic Texan with his infundibuliform jowls and his lumpy, rumpleheaded, indestructible smile cracked forever across the front of his face like the brim of a black ten-gallon hat.
Joseph HellerMi problema con la soledad es que la compañía de otros nunca ha sido una cura para ella.
Joseph HellerThey were frisky, eager and exuberant, and they had all been friends in the States. They were plainly unthinkable. They were noisy, overconfident, empty-headed kids of twenty-one. They had gone to college and were engaged to pretty, clean girls whose pictures were already standing on the rough cement mantelpiece of Orr's fireplace. They had ridden in speedboats and played tennis. They had been horseback riding. One had once been to bed with an older woman. They knew the same poeple in different parts of the country and had gone to school with each other's cousins.
Joseph HellerTag: military academy officers
...You know, one good apple can spoil the rest,” Colonel Korn concluded with conscious irony.
Joseph HellerAnd don't tell me God works in mysterious ways," Yossarian continued, hurtling on over her objection. "There's nothing so mysterious about it. He's not working at all. He's playing. Or else He's forgotten all about us. That's the kind of God you people talk about - a country bumpkin, a clumsy, bungling, brainless, conceited, uncouth hayseed.
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