Link Copied!
Mikhail Sholokhov Quotes (0-)
Novelist
About Mikhail Sholokhov
Mikhail Aleksandrovich Sholokhov (Russian: Михаи́л Алекса́ндрович Шо́лохов) (May 24 O.S May 11 1905 – February 21 1984) was a Soviet/Russian novelist and winner of the 1965 Nobel Prize in Literature.
Best Mikhail Sholokhov Quotes
Shortest
Earliest
Explore our curated collection of the most famous and impactful Mikhail Sholokhov quotes.
“‘The Don! The Don! The gentle Don! Our father; giver of our food! Hurrah!’”
“Sometimes life played with him, sometimes it hung on him like a stone round the neck of a drowned man.”
“And over the village slipped the days, passing into the nights; the weeks flowed by, the months crept on, the wind howled, and, glassified with an autumnal, translucent, greenish-azure, the Don flowed tranquilly down to the sea.”
“In this winter night, long and ample for bitter memories, many a widow who lost her husband in the war and is now left alone will press her palms to her ageing face; and in the nocturnal darkness the burning tears, as bitter as wormwood, will scorch her fingers.”
“When swept out of its normal channel, life scatters into innumerable streams. It is difficult to foresee which it will take in its treacherous and winding course. Where to-day it flows in shallows, like a rivulet over sandbanks, so shallow that the shoals are visible, to-morrow it will flow richly and fully.”
“The grass grows over the graves, time overgrows the pain. The wind blew away the traces of those who had departed; time blows away the bloody pain and the memory of those who did not live to see their dear ones again—and will not live, for brief is human life, and not for long is any of us granted to tread the grass.”
Mikhail Sholokhov Quotes by Topic
Find exactly what you are looking for by browsing this categorized list of Mikhail Sholokhov quotes by topic.
Mikhail Sholokhov on Champagne
“"...You're less of a judge of such matters, Mishka, than a calf is of swill. But I know what's what where liquor's concerned. The liquors and wines I've come to drink in my time! There's wine which foams out of the bottle like out of a mad dog almost before you've pulled the cork - God knows I'm not lying. In Poland, when we broke through the front and rode with Budionny to shake up the Poles, we took a certain estate by storm. When our troop dashed into the estate on horseback there were officers feasting with the masterr — they weren't expecting us. We sabred them all in the orchard and on the stairs, but we took one prisoner. Well, we went into the downstairs rooms and there was a huge table with all kinds of eats on it! Lovely sight it was… Ay, we stuffed ourselves and drank that foaming wine till it we were stuffed up to our eyes. We tugged at a cork and it flew out as though shot from a gun, and the froth boiled up in a great cloud. That wine made me fall off my horse three times that night. The moment I climbed into my saddle I was sent flying again as though blown clean off by the wind. Now if only I could always drink wine like that, a glass or two on an empty stomach, I'd live to be a hundred. But as things are, is anyone likely to live out his time? Do you call this drink, for instance? It's an infection, not a drink! It's enough to make you turn up your toes before your time!" With a nod Prokhor indicated the ewer of vodka and poured himself out another glass full to the brim.”
About Mikhail Sholokhov
Mikhail Aleksandrovich Sholokhov (Russian: Михаи́л Алекса́ндрович Шо́лохов) (May 24 O.S May 11 1905 – February 21 1984) was a Soviet/Russian novelist and winner of the 1965 Nobel Prize in Literature.