"Justice?" The colonel was astounded. "What is justice?"
"Justice, sir --"
"That's not what justice is," the colonel jeered, and began pounding the table again with his big fat hand. "That's what Karl Marx is. I'll tell you what justice is. Justice is a knee in the gut from the floor on a the chin at night sneaky with a knife brought up down on the magazine of a battleship sandbagged underhanded in the dark without a word of warning. Garroting. That's what justice is when we've got to be tough enough and rough enough to fight Billy Petrolle. From the hip. Get it?"
"Nor, sir."
"Don't sir me!"
"Yes, sir."
"And say 'sir' when you don't," order Major Metcalf.
Clevinger was guilty, of course, or he would not had been accused, and since the only way to prove it was to find him guilty, it was their patriotic duty to do so.
Joseph Heller, Catch-22
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