So it goes.

Yesterday, we lost a classic American writer. RIP, Kurt Vonnegut...you certainly had a way with words.

"The smell of mustard gas and roses."

"People aren't suppose to look back. I'm certainly not going to do it anymore. I've finished my war book now. The next one I write is going to be fun. This one is a failure, and had to be, since it was written by a pillar of salt. It begins like this: 'Listen: Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time.' It ends like this: 'Poo-tee-weet?'"

"Human beings will be happier — not when they cure cancer or get to Mars or eliminate racial prejudice or flush Lake Erie — but when they find ways to inhabit primitive communities again. That’s my utopia."

"Being a Humanist means trying to behave decently without expectation of rewards or punishment after you are dead."

"And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.'"

"We're terrible animals. I think that the Earth's immune system is trying to get rid of us, as well it should."

"The only difference between [George W.] Bush and [Adolf] Hitler is that Hitler was elected."

"If I should ever die, God forbid, let this be my epitaph:

THE ONLY PROOF HE NEEDED
FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD
WAS MUSIC

"Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why."

"You realize, of course, that everything I say is horseshit."

"Isaac [Asimov] is in heaven now, that was the funniest thing I could have said to a crowd of Humanists. God forbid, should I pass on sometime, may all of you say that Kurt is in Heaven, too."

"So it goes."

"Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt."