Banga Quotes in The Master and Margarita
Chapter 26 Quotes
He walked in the company of Banga, and beside him walked the wandering philosopher. They were arguing about something very complex and important, and neither of them could refute the other. They did not agree with each other in anything, and that made their argument especially interesting and endless. It went without saying that today’s execution proved to be a sheer misunderstanding: here this philosopher, who had thought up such an incredibly absurd thing as that all men are good, was walking beside him, therefore he was alive. And, of course, it would be terrible even to think that one could execute such a man. There had been no execution! No execution! That was the loveliness of this journey up the stairway of the moon.
There was as much free time as they needed, and the storm would come only towards evening, and cowardice was undoubtedly one of the most terrible vices. Thus spoke Yeshua Ha-Nozri. No, philosopher, I disagree with you: it is the most terrible vice!
This quote explains a recurring dream of Pontius Pilate’s after his decision to approve Yeshua Ha-Nozri’s execution. It shows that his mind is wracked by guilt, and that he knows deep down that he gave into cowardice. It also demonstrates how deeply affected Pilate has been by his brief encounter with Yeshua; he knows that he is deeply wrapped up in events of great magnitude, with huge repercussions for humanity at large. He senses the truth of Yeshua’s message and longs to learn more about it. The dream represents Pilate’s longing to absolve himself from his decision, with Yeshua confirming that the execution didn’t happen—though, of course, it did. Cowardice is portrayed as the worst sin of all because in a way it informs all wrongdoing—cowardice is the reluctance to take a stand in aid of a greater good, which is exactly what Pilate has done.
Chapter 32 Quotes
Here Woland turned to the master and said:
‘Well, now you can finish your novel with one phrase!’
The master seemed to have been expecting this, as he stood motionless and looked at the seated procurator. He cupped his hands to his mouth and cried out so that the echo leaped over the unpeopled and unforested mountains:
‘You’re free! You’re free! He is waiting for you!’
The mountains turned the master’s voice to thunder, and by this same thunder they were destroyed. The accursed rocky walls collapsed. Only the platform with the stone armchair remained. Over the black abyss into which the walls had gone, a boundless city lit up, dominated by gleaming idols above a garden grown luxuriously over many thousands of moons. The path of moonlight so long awaited by the procurator stretched right to this garden, and the first to rush down it was the sharp-eared dog. The man in the white cloak with blood-red lining rose from the armchair and shouted something in a hoarse, cracked voice. It was impossible to tell whether he was weeping or laughing, or what he shouted. It could only be seen that, following his faithful guardian, he, too, rushed headlong down the path of moonlight.

