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Isaac Babel Biography

Isaac Emmanuilovich Babel (Russian: Исаа́к Эммануи́лович Ба́бель, IPA: [ˈbabʲɪlʲ]; 13 July [O.S. 1 July] 1894 – 27 January 1940) was a Russian-language Journalist, Playwright, Literary Translator, Historian and Bolshevik Revolutionary. He is best known as the author of Red Cavalry, Story of My Dovecote, and Tales of Odessa, all of which are considered masterpieces of Russian literature. Babel has also been acclaimed as "the greatest prose writer of Russian Jewry".

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Isaac Babel Quotes

No iron can stab the heart with such force as a period put just at the right place.

Heart, Iron, Life, Stab

A phrase is born into the world both good and bad at the same time. The secret lies in a slight, an almost invisible twist. The lever should rest in your hand, getting warm, and you can only turn it once, not twice.

Hands, Lying, Secret, Slight, Twice, World

She would lift her peignoir above her knees and say to her husband: 'Give baby a kiss. . . '

Baby, Husband, Kissing, Knees, Say

For me the whole world is like a gigantic theater in which I am the only spectator without opera glasses. The orchestra plays the prelude to the third act, the stage is far away as in a dream, my heart swells with delight—and you want to blind me with a pair of half-ruble spectacles?

Blind, Dream, Glasses, Heart, Like, Play

Even at the time—twenty years old—I said to myself: better to go hungry, to go to prison, to be a tramp, than to sit at an office desk ten hours a day. There is no particular daring in this vow, but I have not broken it and shall not do so. The wisdom of my grandfathers sat in my head: we are born for the pleasure of work, fighting, love, we are born for that and nothing else. (Guy de Maupassant)

Born, Fighting, Office, Sat, Ten, Years

The orange sky is rolling across the sky like a severed head, gentle light glimmers in the ravines among the clouds, the banners of the sunset are fluttering above our heads. The stench of yesterday’s blood and slaughtered horses drips into the evening chill.

Chill, Clouds, Gentle, Horse, Like, Sunset

No iron spike can pierce a human heart as icily as a period in the right place.

Heart, Human, Iron, Periods, Place, Spike

If the world could write by itself, it would write like Tolstoy.

Ifs, Like, Tolstoy, World, Writing

When a phrase is born, it is both good and bad at the same time. The secret of its success rests in a crux that is barely discernible. One's fingertips must grasp the key, gently warming it. And then the key must be turned once, not twice.

Crux, Keys, Phrase, Phrases, Secret, Warming

No iron can pierce the human heart as chillingly as a full stop placed at the right time.

Heart, Human, Iron, Right Time, Stop, Time

A well-thought-out story doesn’t need to resemble real life. Life itself tries with all its might to resemble a well-crafted story.

Needs, Real, Resemble, Story, Tries, Trying

There is no iron that can enter the human heart with such stupefying effect, as a period placed at just the right moment.

Crafts, Heart, Iron, Period