Quotes from Gaston Leroux

Are people so unhappy when they love?" "Yes, Christine, when they love and are not sure of being loved.

Tonight I gave you my soul, and I am dead." - Christine, from Gaston Leroux's: The Phantom of the Opera.

You are crying! You are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see! All I wanted was to be loved for myself.

They played at hearts as other children might play at ball; only, as it was really their two hearts that they flung to and fro, they had to be very, very handy to catch them, each time, without hurting them.

You must know that I am made of death, from head to foot, and it is a corpse who loves you and adores you and will never, never leave you!

Erik: Are you very tired? Christine: Oh, tonight I gave you my soul, and I am dead. Erik: Your soul is a beautiful thing, child. No emperor received so fair a gift. The angels wept to-night.

I am not really wicked. Love me, and you will see!

Our lives are one masked ball.

Blood!...Blood!... That's a good thing! A ghost who bleeds is less dangerous!

I am going to die of love....daroga....I am dying of love .... That's how it is... I loved her so! And I love her still...daroga.....and I am dying of love for her, I tell you! if you knew how beautiful she was when she let me kiss her...It was the first ...time, daroga, the first time I ever kissed a woman.. Yes, alive... I kissed her alive.... And she looked as beautiful as if she had been dead!

Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing. Her hair was as golden as the sun's rays, and her soul as clear and blue as her eyes. She wheedled her mother, was kind to her doll, took great care of her frock and her red shoes and her fiddle, but loved most of all, when she went to sleep, to hear the Angel of Music.

She's singing to-night to bring the chandelier down!

Sometimes, the Angel [of Music] leans over the cradle... and that is how there are little prodigies who play the fiddle at six better than men of fifty, which, you must admit is very wonderful. Sometimes, the Angel comes much later, because the children are naughty and won't learn their lessons or practice their scales. And sometimes, he does not come at all, because the children have a wicked heart or a bad conscience.

He stared dully at the desolate, cold road and the pale, dead night. Nothing was colder or more dead than his heart. He had loved an angel and now he despised a woman.

The Opera ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge. Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.

Holy angel, in Heaven blessed, My spirit longs with thee to rest

But do you love me? If Erik were good-looking, would you love me, Christine?

Everyone dies. I just choose the time and place for some of them!

And, despite the care which she took to look behind her at every moment, she failed to see a shadow which followed her like her own shadow, which stopped when she stopped, which started again when she did and which made no more noise than a well-conducted shadow should.

If I am the phantom, it is because man's hatred has made me so. If I am to be saved it is because your love redeems me.

No, he is not a ghost; he is a man of Heaven and earth, that is all.

why do you condemn a man whom you have never met, whom no one knows and about whom even you yourself know nothing?

Erik, Erik! I saved your life! Remember? You were scentenced to death! But for me you would be dead by now.