Difficult Folk, These Women!

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.

I Wouldn’t Like To Meet You When You’ve Got A Revolver,” Said Margarita With A Coquettish Look At Azazello. She Had A Passion For People Who Did Things Well.

No One's Fate Is Of Any Interest To You Except Your Own.

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!

Manuscripts Don't Burn.