Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Don't be afraid, Queen ... don't be afraid, Queen, the blood has long since gone into the earth. And where it was spilled, grapevines are already growing.
Mikhail Bulgakov
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
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
Gone
Spilled
Earth
Queen
Long
Queens
Afraid
Already
Blood
Growing
Since
Grapevine
More quotes by Mikhail Bulgakov
There's only one degree of freshness — the first, which makes it also the last
Mikhail Bulgakov
Why try to pursue what is completed?
Mikhail Bulgakov
There is no greater misfortune in the world than the loss of reason.
Mikhail Bulgakov
Once in 1919, when I was traveling at night by train, I wrote a short story. In the town where the train stopped, I took the story to the publisher of the newspaper who published the story.
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
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
Never ask for anything! Never for anything, and especially from those who are stronger than you. They'll make the offer themselves, and give everything themselves.
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
Manuscripts do not burn.
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
Yes, man is mortal, but that would be only half the trouble. The worst of it is that he's sometimes unexpectedly mortal—there's the trick!
Mikhail Bulgakov
Allow me to inquire how man can control his own affairs when he is not only incapable of compiling a plan for some laughably short term such as, say, a thousand years, but cannot even predict what will happen to him tomorrow?
Mikhail Bulgakov
For some reason, cats are usually addressed familiarly, though no cat has ever drunk bruderschaft with anyone.
Mikhail Bulgakov
But what can be done, the one who loves must share the fate of the who is loved.
Mikhail Bulgakov
Love leaped out in front of us like a murderer in an alley leaping out of nowhere, and struck us both at once. As lightning strikes, as a Finnish knife strikes! She, by the way, insisted afterwards that it wasn't so, that we had, of course, loved each other for a long, long time, without knowing each other, never having seen each other.
Mikhail Bulgakov
Cowardice is the most terrible of vices.
Mikhail Bulgakov
Cowardice is the greatest sin.
Mikhail Bulgakov
Not fooling around, not bothering nobody, just sitting here mending the Primus, said the cat with a hostile frown, and, moreover, I consider it my duty to warn you that the cat is an ancient, inviolable animal.
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
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