But How Can One Be Warm Alone?

I Am Miracle Ingredient Z-247. I'm Immense. I'm A Real, Slam-bang, Honest-to-goodness, Three-fisted Humdinger. I'm A Bona Fide Supraman.

It Doesn't Make A Damned Bit Of Difference Who Wins The War To Someone Who's Dead.

There Was Only One Catch And That Was Catch22, Which Specified That A Concern For One's Safety In The Face Of Dangers That Were Real And Immediate Was The Process Of A Rational Mind. Orr Was Crazy And Could Be Grounded. All He Had To Do Was Ask, And As Soon As He Did, He Would No Longer Be Crazy And Would Have To Fly More Missions. Orr Would Be Crazy To Fly More Missions And Sane If He Didn't, But If He Was Sane He Had To Fly Them. If He Flew Them He Was Crazy And Didn't Have To; But If He Didn't Want To He Was Sane And Had To.

There Are Yawning Gulfs Into Which Large Chunks Of Me Have Fallen. I Do Not Always Know Where I Am At Present.

When I Read Something Saying I've Not Done Anything As Good As 'catch-22' I'm Tempted To Reply, 'who Has?'