Life and Existence

Everybody is identical in their secret unspokenbelief that way deep down they are differentfrom everyone else.

Most really pretty girls have pretty ugly feet, and so does Mindy Metalman, Lenore notices, all of a sudden.

She say, Celie, tell the truth, have you ever found God in church? I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for him to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me.

She say, Celie, tell the truth, have you ever found God in church? I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for him to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me.

So it goes.

Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time.

We Bokonists believe that humanity isorganized into teams, teams that do God’s Will without ever discovering what they are doing. Such a team is called a karass by Bokonon.

Every passing hour brings the Solar Systemforty-three thousand miles closer to GlobularCluster M13 in Hercules—and still there are some misfits who insist that there is no such thing as progress.

I was the victim of a series of accidents, as are we all.

In this world we run the risk of having tochoose between being either the anvil or thehammer.

In Westphalie, in Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh’scastle, there was a young boy upon whom nature had bestowed the gentlest manners. His soul shined through his face. He had fairly sound judgment, with the simplest spirit; this is why, I believe, they called him Candide.

If there were only one religion in England, there would be danger of tyranny; if there weretwo, they would cut each other’s throats; butthere are thirty, and they live happily togetherin peace.

Fugit inreparabile tempus .

Death twitches my ear. “Live,” he says; “I am coming.”

Death twitches my ear. “Live,” he says; “I am coming.”

Audacibus annue coeptis .

Geniumque loci primamque deorum

Manibus date lilia plenis .

L’avenir est comme le reste: il n’est plus ce qu’il était .

L’avenir est comme le reste: il n’est plus ce qu’il était .

Nous autres, civilisations, nous savons maintenant que nous sommes mortelles .

[ On Ted Williams’s last baseball game at FenwayPark, Boston, Mass. :] Our noise for someseconds passed beyond excitement into akind of immense open anguish, a cry to besaved. But immortality is nontransferable. Thepapers said that the other players, and eventhe umpires on the field, begged him to comeout and acknowledge us in some way, but henever had and did not now. Gods do not answerletters.

The first breath of adultery is the freest; after it, constraints aping marriage appear.

Life is doubt,