“Why don't you use some sense and try to be more like me? You might live to be a hundred and seven, too.""Because it’s better to die on one’s feet than live on one’s knees,” Nately retorted with triumphant and lofty conviction. “I guess you’ve heard that saying before.”“Yes, I certainly have,” mused the treacherous old man, smiling again. “But I’m afraid you have it backward. It is better to live on one’s feet than die on one’s knees. That is the way the saying goes.”“Are you sure?” Nately asked with sober confusion. “It seems to make more sense my way.”“No, it makes more sense my way. Ask your friends.”

“Because it's better to die on one's feet that+n live on one's knees," Nately retorted with triumphant and lofty convivtion. "I guess you've heard that saying before.""Yes, I certainly have," mused the treacherous old man, smiling again. "But I'm afraid you have it backward. It is better to live on one's feet than die on one's knees.”

“Surely there can't be so many countries worth dying for.'Anything worth living for,' said Nately, 'is worth dying for.'And anything worth dying for,' answered the sacrilegious old man, 'is certainly worth living for.”

“Nately was instantly up in arms again. "There is nothing so absurd about risking your life for your country!" he declared."Isn't there?" asked the old man. "What is a country? A country is a piece of land surrounded on all sides by boundaries, usually unnatural. Englishmen are dying for England, Americans are dying for America, Germans are dying for Germany, Russians are dying for Russia. There are now fifty or sixty countries fighting in this war. Surely so many countries can't all be worth dying for.""Anything worth living for," said Nately, "is worth dying for.""And anything worth dying for," answered the sacrilegious old man, "is certainly worth living for.”

“You're a shameful opportunist! What you don't understand is that it's better to die on your feet than to live on your knees!"You have it backwards... it's better to live on your feet than to die on your knees”

“Colonel Cathcart is our commanding officer and we must obey him. Why don't you fly four more missions and see what happens?""I don't want to.""Suppose we let you pick your missions and fly milk runs?" Major Major said. "That way you can fly the four missions and not run any risks.""I don't want to fly milk runs. I don't want to be in the war anymore.""Would you like to see our country lose?" Major Major asked."We won't lose. We've got more men, more money, and more material. There are ten million men in uniform who could replace me. Some people are getting killed and a lot more are making money and having fun. Let somebody else get killed.""But suppose everybody on our side felt that way?""Then I'd certainly be a damned fool to feel any other way. Wouldn't I?”

“When I was a kid," Orr replied, "I used to walk around all day with crab apples in my cheeks. One in each cheek."... A minute passed. "Why?" [Yossarian] found himself forced to ask finally.Orr tittered triumphantly. "Because they're better than horse chestnuts... When I couldn't get crab apples," Orr continued, "I used horse chestnuts. Horse chestnuts are about the same size as crab apples and actually have a better shape, although the shape doesn't matter a bit.""Why did you walk around with crab apples in your cheeks?" Yossarian asked again. "That's what I asked." "Because they've got a better shape than horse chestnuts," Orr answered. "I just told you that.""Why," swore Yossarian at him approvingly, "you evil-eyed, mechanically aptituded, disaffiliated son of a bitch, did you walk around with anything in your cheeks?""I didn't," Orr said, "walk around with anything in my cheeks. I walked around with crab applies in my cheeks. When I couldn't get crab apples I walked around with horse chestnuts. In my cheeks.”