Character: Margarita. Page 1

I'm getting dizzy from all these intricacies...

There is nothing more painful, but nothing is happier than after the numbness to come back to life.

I felt the sadness before a long journey. Isn't it true, Messire, it is quite natural, even when one knows that at the end of this road waiting for his happiness?

No matter what the pessimists, the earth is still absolutely beautiful, and under the moon and simply unique.

She listened without hearing and looked at him, not seeing...

I drugged to death the mother of his daughter drowned in the pond. God thought it lucky for us to give, and gave trouble.

My drama is that I live with someone I don't like, but to ruin his life I deem it unworthy.

- Oh, don't remind me, Azazello! I was stupid then. Yes, indeed, I should not be strictly to blame for this - after all it's not every day you meet evil spirits!
- Still, - have confirmed Azazello, if used every day, it would be nice!

I believe!

I know that in the evening you will come to the people you love, who you are interested in and who you won't bother them. They'll play, they will sing to you, you will see some light in the room when candles are burning. You fall asleep wearing your grimy eternal cap, you fall asleep with a smile on his lips. Sleep will strengthen you, you will talk wisely. And to banish me you will not be able to. Cherish your dream, I will.

Forgive me and soon forget. I'm leaving you forever. Don't look for me, it's useless. I became a witch from the grief and misery struck me. I have to go. Goodbye. Margarita.

Ah, right, the devil would I pawned soul just to know he is alive or not!

Margarita squinted in the bright sun, remembered his dream, remembered how exactly a year to the day and hour to hour, on this same bench she was sitting next to him. And exactly the same as then, the black handbag lay beside her on the bench. He wasn't around that day, but spoke mentally Margarita is still with him: "If you are exiled, why don't you give to know about yourself? After all, let the people know. Don't you love me? No, somehow I don't believe it. So you were exiled and died... Then, please, let me go, give me the freedom to live, to breathe the air." Margarita Nikolayevna herself answered him: "You are free... am I holding you?" Then he replied: "No, what is this answer! No, you get out of my memory, then I'll be free."

But only disappeared the dirty snow from the sidewalks and roadways, only pulled the window gnilovaty restless wind of spring, Margarita Nikolaevna began to miss the forest than in the winter. She cried often in secret for a long and bitter weeping. She didn't know who she loves: living or dead? And the farther was desperate days, more often, and especially in twilight, she thought about how she connected with the dead.
It was either forget it, or die. Because it is impossible to lead such a life. Impossible! Forget it, whatever it takes - to forget! But he is not forgotten, that the mountain in it.