“How’s the patient?” asked Derby.“Dead to the world.”“But not actually dead.”“No.”“How nice - to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.”

“How nice-to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.”

“How nice -- to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.”

“How nice—to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.”

“If what Billy Pilgrim learned from the Tralfamadorians is true, that we will all live forever, no matter how dead we may sometimes seem to be, I am not overjoyed. Still--if I am going to spend eternity visiting this moment and that, I'm grateful that so many of those moments are nice.”

“There was a still life on Billy's bedside table-two pills, an ashtray with three lipstick-stained cigarettes in it, one cigarette still burning, and a glass of water. The water was dead. So it goes. Air was trying to get out of the dead water. Bubbles were clinging to the walls of the glass, too weak to climb out.”

“Our awareness is all that is alive and maybe sacred in any of us. Everything else about us is dead machinery.”