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“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!’

                                                                                                      -Mikhail Bulgakov