Joseph Heller

Sundays are deadly.

Spare time is ruinous.

I asked for me.

I was not there either.

(I had never done that before.)

It made me sad to hear that.

But better wet and smelly, for my taste, than dry and perfumed. I hate those artificial, candy-store scents. I want to embrace human flesh with musky, natural odors, not a bar of soap.

I think that maybe in every company today there is always at least one person who is going crazy slowly.

In my middle years, I have exchanged the position of the fetus for the position of a corpse.

...if you asked any one of them if he would choose to spend the rest of his life working for the company, he would give you a resounding No!, regardless of what inducements were offered. I was that high once. If you asked me that same question today, I would also give you a resounding No! and add:

"I think I'd rather die now."

But I am making no plans to leave.

I have the feeling now that there is no place left for me to go.

No one understands that carrying on bravely was the easiest thing to do.

I don't know what else one can do with a hole in one except talk about it.

Because Andy Kagle is good to me and doesn't scare me any longer, I despise him a little bit too.

I want my little boy back too.

I don't want to lose him.

I do.

Women don't suffer from penis envy. Men do.

Something did happen to me somewhere that robbed me of confidence and courage and left me with a fear of discovery and change and a positive dread of everything unknown that may occur.