“He seemed wild and dangerous and carefree--well, he would, would'nt he? What were motorcycles and black leather pants if not the uniform of a wild, dangerous and carefree man?”

“What of honour? What of courage? What of all the things that bind the legions together?’ He gave a shrug and a nod together, and a faint grin that was all the old Juvens; wild, erratic, carefree. His tilted palm said, ‘What of them? Life is too precious.”

“Yossarian's attitude toward his roommates turned merciful and protective at the mere recollection of Captain Black. It was not their fault that they were young and cheerful, he reminded himself as he carried the swinging beam of his flashlight back through the darkness. He wished that he could be young and cheerful, too. And it wasn't their fault that they were courageous, confident and carefree. He would just have to be patient with them until one or two were killed and the rest wounded, and then they would all turn out okay.”

“It would seem from this fact, that man is naturally a wild animal, and that when taken from the woods, he is never happy in his natural state, 'till he returns to them again.”

“The man towered over her five-foot-four-inch frame by a good ten inches. He was big, dark and deadly-looking, with piercing ebony eyes and long, silky black hair secured in a ponytail. Dressed all in black—leather jacket, cotton shirt and jeans—he blended into the night like a prince of darkness. Rorie shuddered at the thought. Whoever or whatever this man was, he was danger personified.”

“That's how things were out here in the wild, she was learning. Dangerous or beautiful. Or both.”