Listen: Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time.
There is no beginning, no middle, no end, no suspense, no moral, no causes, no effects. What we love in our books are the depths of many marvelous moments seen all at one time.
All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist.
I think you guys are going to have to come up with a lot of wonderful new lies, or people just aren't going to want to go on living.
He is in a constant state of stage fright, he says, because he never knows what part of his life he is going to have to act in next
It is just an illusion here on Earth that one moment follows another one, like beads on a string, and that once a moment is gone, it is gone forever.
When a Tralfamadorian sees a corpse, all he thinks is that the dead person is in bad condition in the particular moment, but that the same person is just fine in plenty of other moments. Now, when I myself hear that somebody is dead, I simply shrug and say what the Tralfamadorians say about dead people, which is "So it goes.
If I hadn’t spent so much time studying Earthlings," said the Tralfamadorian, "I wouldn’t have any idea what was meant by 'free will.' I've visited thirty-one inhabited planets in the universe, and I have studied reports on one hundred more. Only on Earth is there any talk of free will.
There is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre.
Among the things Billy Pilgrim could not change were the past, the present, and the future.
And what do the birds say? All there is to say about a massacre, things like "Poo-tee-weet?
One of the main effects of war, after all, is that people are discouraged from being characters.
The most important thing I learned [...] was that when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist.
Ignore the awful times, and concentrate on the good ones.
The nicest veterans in Schenectady, I thought, the kindest and funniest ones, the ones who hated war the most, were the ones who'd really fought.
That's one thing Earthlings might learn to do, if they tried hard enough: Ignore the awful times and concentrate on the good ones.
I am a Tralfamadorian, seeing all time as you might see a stretch of the Rocky Mountains. All time is all time. It does not change. It does not lend itself to warnings or explanations. It simply is.
Before you kill somebody, make absolutely sure he isn't well connected. So it goes.
And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep.
It is so short and jumbled and jangled, Sam, because there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be very quiet after a massacre, and it always is, except for the birds. And what do the birds say? All there is to say about a massacre, things like "Poo-tee-weet?
Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.
How nice -- to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.
All this happened, more or less.
Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.
Take it moment by moment, and you will find that we are all, as I’ve said before, bugs in amber.
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