Quotes from Mikhail Bulgakov

Aren't there enough plays already? There are such lovely plays and so many of them. If you were to start playing them you couldn't get through them all in twenty years. Why do you want to write? It must be so upsetting!

Ali taj koji voli mora dijeliti sudbinu onoga koga voli.

I can't escape from here. Not because it's too high but because I've nowhere to go.

Che cosa sarebbe il tuo bene se non ci fosse il male, e come apparirebbe la terra se non ci fossero le ombre? Le ombre nascono dagli oggetti e dalle persone. Ecco l'ombra della mia spada. Ma ci sono le ombre degli alberi e degli esseri viventi. Non vorrai per caso sbucciare tutto il globo terrestre buttando via tutti gli alberi e tutto ciò che è vivo per godere nella tua fantasia della nuda luce?

She only came through that gate once a day, but my heart would beat faster from at least ten false alarms every morning. Then when her time came and the hands were pointing to noon, my heart went on thumping until her shoes with their black patent-leather straps and steel buckles drew level, almost soundlessly, with my basement window.

No, you mustn't give way. It's simply that you don't know what the theater's like. There are some complicated mechanisms in this world but the theater is the most complicated of them all...

Your membership cards, please, said the woman. This is really all rather funny! said Koroviev, refusing to give up. A writer isn't a writer because he has a membership card but because he writes. How do you know what bright ideas may not be swarming in my head? Or in his head? And he pointed at Behemoth's head. The cat removed its cap to give the woman a better look at its head. Stand back, please, she said, irritated.

Name?' 'Mine?' the arrested man hastily responded, his whole being expressing a readiness to answer sensibly, without provoking further wrath. The prosecutor said softly: 'I know my own. Don't pretend to be stupider than you are. Yours.

qué haría tu bien si no existiera el mal y qué aspecto tendría la tierra si desaparecieran las sombras? Los hombres y los objetos producen sombras. Ésta es la sombra de mi espada. También hay sombras de árboles y seres vivos. ¿No querrás raspar toda la tierra, arrancar los árboles y todo lo vivo para gozar de la luz desnuda? Eres un necio.

this strange case, which smacked of obvious devilry, with an admixture of some hypnotic tricks and distinct criminality

understanding and admitting to himself that nothing in his life could be repaired any more, that all he could do was to forget.

Your interlocutor was at Pilate's, and had breakfast with Kant, and now he's visiting Moscow

She felt something warm and velvety by her leg. It was Behemoth.

If it is true that cowardice is the most grievous vice, then the dog at least is not guilty of it.

Yapacak bir ÅŸey yok: Ä°nsanoÄŸlu fani ve isabetle söylendiÄŸi üzere aniden fani.

Well, he who loves must share the lot of the one he loves.

So what if I had to eat out of dustbins? At least it was an honest living.

A quarter of an hour later, Ruikhin sat in complete solitude, hunched over his bream, drinking glass after glass, understanding and recognizing that it was no longer possible to set anything right in his life, that it was only possible to forget.

Twelve thousand moons for one moon long ago, isn't that too much?

Gods, gods! How sad the evening earth! How mysterious the mists over the bogs! Whoever has wandered in these mists, whoever suffered deeply before death, whoever flew over this earth burdened beyond human strength knows it. The weary one knows it. And he leaves without regret the mists of the earth, its swamps and rivers, and yields himself with an easy heart to the hands of death, knowing that it alone can bring surcease.

The thought that there is no greater misfortune in the world than the loss of reason? Yes, yes, of course, that, too. But that - that's only a general thought. There's something else. What is it? An insult, that's what. Yes, yes, insulting words hurled right in his face by Homeless. And the trouble is not that they were insulting, but that there was truth in them.

the liquidation of the intelligentsia

She must either forget him or die herself. It was impossible to go on like this. Impossible! She must forget him, forget him at any cost! But she could not forget him, that was the trouble.

I believe!" Margarita whispered solemnly. "I believe! Something will happen! It cannot fail, for why should I be punished with lifelong torment? I admit that I have lied and deceived and lived a secret life, hidden from others. But surely this does not deserve such cruel punishment. . . . Something is sure to happen. Nothing lasts forever. Besides, my dream was prophetic, I am certain it was. . .