Difficult Folk, These Women!

You're Not Dostoevsky,' Said The Citizeness, Who Was Getting Muddled By Koroviev. Well, Who Knows, Who Knows,' He Replied. 'dostoevsky's Dead,' Said The Citizeness, But Somehow Not Very Confidently. 'i Protest!' Behemoth Exclaimed Hotly. 'dostoevsky Is Immortal!

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.

Nobody Should Be Whipped. Remember That, Once And For All. Neither Man Nor Animal Can Be Influenced By Anything But Suggestion.

This Twenty-year-old Boy Was Distinguished From Childhood By Strange Qualities, A Dreamer And An Eccentric. A Girl Fell In Love With Him, And He Went And Sold Her To A Brothel.

But Worse Things Were About To Be Found In The Bedroom: On The Jeweller’s Wife’s Ottoman, In A Casual Pose, Sprawled A Third Party- Namely, A Black Cat Of Uncanny Size, With A Glass Of Vodka In One Paw And A Fork, On Which He Had Managed To Spear A Pickled Mushroom, In The Other. , The Master And Magarita