As I approached my fiftieth birthday, I had become more and more enraged and mystified by the idiot decisions of my countrymen. And then I had come suddenly to pity them, for I understood how innocent and natural it was for them to behave so abominably, and with such abominable results: They were doing their best to live like people invented in story books. This was the reason Americans shot each other so often: It was a convenient literary device for ending short stories and books.
— Kurt Vonnegut from Breakfast of Champions
Where is home? I’ve wondered where home is, and I realized, it’s not Mars or someplace like that, it’s Indianapolis when I was nine years old. I had a brother and a sister, a cat and a dog, and a mother and a father and uncles and aunts. And there’s no way I can get there again.
— Kurt Vonnegut as quoted in “The World according to Kurt” in Globe and Mail [Toronto] (11 October 2005)