He needed me to do what sons do for their fathers: bear witness that they're substantial, that they're not hollow, not ringing absences. That they count for something when little else seems to.
There he is then, the unfortunate brute, quite miserable because of me, for whom there is nothing to be done, and he so anxious to help, so used to giving orders and to being obeyed. There he is, ever...
You can know a thing to death and be for all purposes completely ignorant of it. A man can know his father, or his son, and there might still be nothing between them but loyalty and love and mutual...
What I really want to tell him is to pick up that baby of his and hold her tight, to set the moon on the edge of her crib and to hang her name up in the stars.
The Red Lion was a four-ale bar with a handful of lowbrowed sons of toil who looked as though they...
What could you do? Major Major asked himself again. What could you do with a man who looked you...
Keep in mind that when we talk of a great painting we are not really talking about anything great....
Why are they going to disappear him? I don't know. It doesn't make sense. It isn't even good...
Read me back the last line. 'Read me back the last line,' read back the corporal who could take...
Havermeyer was a lead bombardier who never missed. Yossarian was a lead bombardier who had been...
It isn't even good grammar. What the hell does it mean when they disappear somebody?
Inscribed on the back was a line from Virgil in Latin: Audentes fortuna juvat. Fortune favors the...
When I stand and contemplate my fate and see the path along which you have led me, I reach my end,...