“Actually, I do happen to resemble a hallucination. Kindly note my silhouette in the moonlight." The cat climbed into the shaft of moonlight and wanted to keep talking but was asked to be quiet. "Very well, I shall be silent," he replied, "I shall be a silent hallucination.”

“There was only the cemetery itself, spread out in the moonlight like a soft grey hallucination, a stony wilderness of Victorian melancholy.”

“I cannot be silent about injustice. And I shall keep doing so because I love life, and I love my fellow humans who inhabit this world.”

“Then I shall bid thee goodnight, my dear. Sweet pixies watch over the dusty moonlight of your dreams, Jessameine.”

“I shall sit down,' replied the cat, sitting down, 'but I shall enter an objection with regard to your last. My speeches in no way resemble verbal muck, as you have been pleased to put it in the presence of a lady, but rather a sequence of tightly packed syllogisms, the merit of which would be appreciated by such connoisseurs as Sextus Empiricus, Martianus Capella, and, for all I know, Aristotle himself.'Your king is in check,' said Woland.Very well, very well,' responded the cat, and he began studying the chessboard through his opera glasses.And so, donna,' Woland addressed Margarita, 'I present to you my retinue. This one who is playing the fool is the cat Behemoth...”

“Follow my finger." He moved it around, tracking my eye movements. "Any blurred vision?""Well I think I'm hallucinating, because I see a big talking pile of crap." - Joanne Baldwin.”