History did not demand Yossarian’s premature demise, justice could be satisfied without it, progress did not hinge upon it, victory did not depend on it.
They’re trying to kill me, Yossarian told him calmly. No one’s trying to kill you, Clevinger cried. Then why are they shooting at me? Yossarian asked. They’re shooting at everyone, Clevinger answered. They’re trying to kill everyone. And what difference does that make?
