The Phantom of the Opera

by Gaston Leroux

“No, of course not. . . . Why, you love him! Your fear, your terror, all of that is just love and love of the most exquisite kind, the kind which people do not admit even to themselves,” said Raoul bitterly. “The kind that gives you a thrill, when you think of it. . . . Picture it: a man who lives in a palace underground!” And he gave a leer.

“Strange, Christine, that this calm, soft night should be so full of plaintive sounds. One would think that it was sorrowing with us.”