Literature has become my life. Mikhail Bulgakov More Quotes by Mikhail Bulgakov More Quotes From Mikhail Bulgakov But would you kindly ponder this question: What would your good do if evil didn't exist, and what would the earth look like if all the shadows disappeared? After all, shadows are cast by things and people. Here is the shadow of my sword. But shadows also come from trees and living beings. Do you want to strip the earth of all trees and living things just because of your fantasy of enjoying naked light? You're stupid. Mikhail Bulgakov lightstupidpeople "We speak different languages, as usual," responded Woland, "but this does not change the things we speak about. Well?..." Mikhail Bulgakov differentusualdoe Kindness. The only possible method when dealing with a living creature. You'll get nowhere with an animal if you use terror, no matter what its level of development may be. That I have maintained, do maintain and always will maintain. People who think you can use terror are quite wrong. No, no, terror is useless, whatever its colour – white, red or even brown! Terror completely paralyses the nervous system. Mikhail Bulgakov kindnessanimalthinking 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! Mikhail Bulgakov catalcoholqueens Cowardice is the most terrible of vices. Mikhail Bulgakov cowardiceterriblevices What would your good do if evil didn't exist, and what would the earth look like if all the shadows disappeared? Mikhail Bulgakov shadowevillooks Everything will turn out right, the world is built on that. Mikhail Bulgakov margaritaturnsworld 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 painstarseye 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 faithfulcuttingliars You should never ask anyone for anything. Never- and especially from those who are more powerful than yourself. Mikhail Bulgakov margaritapowerfulshould But what can be done, the one who loves must share the fate of the who is loved. Mikhail Bulgakov fatedoneshare 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 halfwould-bemen There is no greater misfortune in the world than the loss of reason. Mikhail Bulgakov reasonlossworld he was coming to understand he could not come to rectify anything in his life, only forget. Mikhail Bulgakov rectifyforget Most bad," the host concluded. "If you ask me, something sinister lurks in men who avoid wine, games, the company of lovely women, and dinnertime conversation. Such people are either gravely ill or secretly detest everyone around them. Mikhail Bulgakov winegamesmen 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 menorderyears Once upon a time there was a lady. She had no children, and no happiness either. And at first she cried for a long time, but then she became wicked. Mikhail Bulgakov once-upon-a-timelongchildren Manuscripts don't burn. Mikhail Bulgakov manuscripts 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. Mikhail Bulgakov hallucinationscattalking How sad, ye Gods, how sad the world is at evening, how mysterious the mists over the swamps! You will know it when you have wandered astray in those mists, when you have suffered greatly before dying, when you have walked through the world carrying an unbearable burden. You know it two when you are weary and ready to leave this earth without regret; its mists; its swamps and its rivers; ready to give yourself into the arms of death with a light heart, knowing that death alone can comfort you. Mikhail Bulgakov regrethearttwo
