Бойня номер пять. Балаган, или Конец одиночеству

—Бывает и хуже, — сказал бродяга на второй день. —Бывает куда хуже.

My father died many years ago now — of natural causes. So it goes. He was a sweet man. He was a gun nut, too. He left me his guns. They rust.

Two Roman soldiers came into the shop with a mechanical drawing on papyrus of a device they wanted built by sunrise the next morning. It was a cross to be used in the execution of a rabble-rouser.
Jesus and his father built it. They were glad to have the work. And the rabble-rouser was executed on it.
So it goes.

“It was all right,” said Billy. “Everything is all right, and everybody has to do exactly what he does. I learned that on Tralfamadore.”

He knew very little about her, except that she was one more public demonstration that he was a superman.

Somebody in the zoo crowd asked him through the lecturer what the most valuable thing he had learned on Tralfamadore was so far, and Billy replied, “How the inhabitants of a whole planet can live in peace."

Oh, boy — they sure picked the wrong guy to lynch that time!
And that thought had a brother: “There are right people to lynch.” Who? People not well connected. So it goes

"Господи, дай мне спокойствие принять то, чего я не могу изменить, дай мне мужество изменить то, что я могу изменить. И дай мне мудрость отличить одно от другого." — Фридрих Кристоф Этингер

Билли не собирался протестовать против бомбежки Вьетнама, не содрогался, вспоминая об ужасах, которые он сам видел при бомбежке. Он просто завтракал в Клубе львов, где когда-то был председателем.