Yuri Andreiivich, you've changed. Larisa - remarkably the same.

Komarovski

Gen. Yevgraf Zhivago: [narrating; on World War I] By the second winter, the boots had worn out... but the line still held. Even Comrade Lenin underestimated both the anguish of that 900-mile long front... as well our own cursed capacity for suffering. Half the men went into action without any arms... irregular rations... led by officers they didn't trust.
Officer: [to soldiers] Come on, you bastards!
Gen. Yevgraf Zhivago: And those they did trust...
Pasha: [leaps out of the trench and begins leading his men in a charge] Come on, Comrades! Forward, comrades! Earth-shakers!
Gen. Yevgraf Zhivago: Finally, when they could stand it no longer, they began doing what every army dreams of doing...
Gen. Yevgraf Zhivago: They began to go home. That was the beginning of the Revolution.

[narrating over a military parade in Moscow] In bourgeois terms, it was a war between the Allies and Germany. In Bolshevik terms, it was a war between the Allied and German upper classes - and which of them won was of total indifference. My task was to organize defeat, so as to hasten the onset of revolution. I enlisted under the name of Petrov. The party looked to the peasant conscript soldiers - many of whom were wearing their first real pair of boots. When the boots had worn out, they'd be ready to listen. When the time came, I was able to take three whole battalions out of the front lines with me - the best day's work I ever did. But for now, there was nothing to be done. There were too many volunteers. Most of it was mere hysteria.

Gen. Yevgraf Zhivago

Pasha: I used to admire your poetry.
Zhivago: Thank you.
Pasha: I shouldn't admire it now. I should find it absurdly personal. Don't you agree? Feelings, insights, affections... it's suddenly trivial now. You don't agree; you're wrong. The personal life is dead in Russia. History has killed it. I can see why you might hate me.
Zhivago: I hate everything you say, but not enough to kill you for it.

I am the only free man on this train! And the rest of you are CATTLE!

Kostoyed Amourski

Liberius: Comrade Doctor, I need a medical officer. Zhivago: I'm sorry, I have a wife and child in Varykino.
Razin, Liberius' Lieutenant: ...and a mistress in Yuriatin.
Liberius: [laughs] Comrade Medical Officer, we are Red partisans, and we SHOOT deserters!

Liberius: [looking at the bodies of slain White soldiers, whom he was found to be teenagers] St. Michael's Military School?
Liberius: You old bastard!

Razin, Liberius' Lieutenant: [Zhivago is trying to aide a wounded White soldier] It does not matter!
Zhivago: Have you ever loved a woman, Razin? Razin, Liberius' Lieutenant: I once had a wife and four children.

Liberius: [Liberius and Razin are debating whether or not to allow Zhivago's release] I command this unit!
Razin, Liberius' Lieutenant: We command jointly! The Party Bulletin expressly states...
Liberius: Bah! I could have you taken out and shot!
Razin, Liberius' Lieutenant: And could you have The Party taken out and shot? Understand this

Gromeko: [reading newspaper] They've shot the Czar. And all his family.
Gromeko: Oh, that's a savage deed. What's it for?
Zhivago: It's to show there's no going back.

But don't you see her position? She's served her purpose. These men who came with me today as an escort will come for her and the child tomorrow as a firing squad! Now I know exactly what you think of me, and why. But if you're not coming with me, she's not coming with me. So are you coming with me? Do you accept the protection of this ignoble Caliban on any terms that Caliban cares to make? Or is your delicacy so exorbitant that you would sacrifice a woman and a child to it?

Komarovski

Tonya: Yuri, there's an extraordinary girl at this party.
Zhivago: I know. I'm dancing with her.

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Doctor Zhivago Quotes

Pasha: The private life is dead - for a man with any manhood.
Zhivago: I saw some of your 'manhood' on the way at a place called Minsk.
Pasha: They were selling horses to the Whites.
Zhivago: It seems you've burnt the wrong village.
Pasha: They always say that, and what does it matter? A village betrays us, a village is burned. The point's made.
Zhivago: Your point - their village.

Who are you to refuse my sugar? Who are you to refuse me anything?

Komarovski