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Follow me, reader! Who told you that there is no true, faithful, eternal love in this world! May the liar's vile tongue be cut out! Follow me, my reader, and me alone, and I will show you such a love!
Mikhail Bulgakov
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Mikhail Bulgakov
Age: 48 †
Born: 1891
Born: May 15
Died: 1940
Died: March 10
Actor
Biographer
Journalist
Librettist
Novelist
Physician
Physician Writer
Playwright
Satirist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Kiev
Mikhael Bulgakov
Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov
Liar
Told
Liars
Alone
Faithful
Show
Tongue
Shows
Follow
True
Reader
May
Eternal
Margarita
Love
Vile
World
Cutting
More quotes by Mikhail Bulgakov
Well, as everyone knows, once witchcraft gets started, there's no stopping it.
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Manuscripts don't burn.
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You are not Dostoevsky,' said the woman... 'You never can tell...' he answered. 'Dostoevsky is dead,' the woman said, a bit uncertainly. 'I protest!' he said with heat, 'Dostoevsky is immortal!
Mikhail Bulgakov
He's clever,' thought Ivan,' I must admit there are some smart people even among the intelligentsia
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Is that vodka? Margarita asked weakly. The cat jumped up in his seat with indignation. I beg pardon, my queen, he rasped, Would I ever allow myself to offer vodka to a lady? This is pure alcohol!
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Everything passes away-suffering,pain, blood, hunger,pestilence. The sword will pass away too, but the stars will remain when the shadows of our presence and our deeds have vanished from the Earth. There is no man who does not know that. Why, then, will we not turn our eyes toward the stars? Why?
Mikhail Bulgakov
What would your good do if evil didn't exist, and what would the earth look like if all the shadows disappeared?
Mikhail Bulgakov
What's the use of dying in a ward surrounded by a lot of groaning and croaking incurables? Wouldn't it be much better to throw a party with that twenty-seven thousand and take poison and depart for the other world to the sound of violins, surrounded by lovely drunken girls and happy friends?
Mikhail Bulgakov
You should never ask anyone for anything. Never- and especially from those who are more powerful than yourself.
Mikhail Bulgakov
Nobody should be whipped. Remember that, once and for all. Neither man nor animal can be influenced by anything but suggestion.
Mikhail Bulgakov
Manuscripts do not burn.
Mikhail Bulgakov
But what can be done, the one who loves must share the fate of the who is loved.
Mikhail Bulgakov
In order to be in control, you have to have a definite plan for at least a reasonable period of time. So how, may I ask, can man be in control if he can't even draw up a plan for a ridiculously short period of time, say, a thousand years, and is, moreover, unable to ensure his own safety for even the next day?
Mikhail Bulgakov
For some reason, cats are usually addressed familiarly, though no cat has ever drunk bruderschaft with anyone.
Mikhail Bulgakov
Why try to pursue what is completed?
Mikhail Bulgakov
The cat, covered in dust and standing on its hind legs, bowed to Margarita. Round its neck it was now wearing a made-up white bow tie on an elastic band, with a pair of ladies’ mother-of-pearl binoculars hanging on a cord. It had also gilded its whiskers.
Mikhail Bulgakov
Actually, I do happen to resemble a hallucination. Kindly note my silhouette in the moonlight. The cat climbed into the shaft of moonlight and wanted to keep talking but was asked to be quiet. Very well, I shall be silent, he replied, I shall be a silent hallucination.
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Cowardice was undoubtedly one of the most terrible vices - thus spoke Yeshua Ha-Nozri. 'No, philosopher, I disagree with you: it is the most terrible vice!
Mikhail Bulgakov
Second freshness - that's what is nonsense! There is only one freshness - the first - and it is also the last. And if sturgeon is of the second freshness, that means it is simply rotten.
Mikhail Bulgakov
You pronounced your words as if you don’t acknowledge the shadows, or the evil either. Would you be so kind as to give a little thought to the question of what your good would be doing if evil did not exist, and how the earth would look if the shadows were to disappear from it?
Mikhail Bulgakov