The Phantom of the Opera quotes

… discussed at the Opera but this ghost in dress-clothes who stalked about the building, from top to bottom, like a shadow, who spoke to nobody, to whom nobody dared speak and who vanished as soon as he was seen, no one knowing how or where.

As became a real ghost, he made no noise in walking.

People began by laughing and making fun of this specter dressed like a man of fashion or an undertaker; but the ghost legend soon swelled to enormous proportions among the corps de ballet.

but the ghost legend soon swelled to enormous proportions among the corps de ballet. All the girls pretended to have met this supernatural being more or less often.

And those who laughed the loudest were not the most at ease.

When he did not show himself, he betrayed his presence or his passing by accident, comic or serious, for which the general superstition held him responsible.

Had anyone met with a fall, or suffered a practical joke at the hands of one of the other girls, or lost a powder-puff, it was at once the fault of the ghost, of the Opera ghost.

After all, who had seen him? You meet so many men in dress-clothes at the Opera who are not ghosts.

But this dress-suit had a peculiarity of its own. It covered a skeleton. At least, so the ballet-girls said. And, of course, it had a death’s head.

And then, one after the other, there came a series of incidents so curious and so inexplicable that the very shrewdest people began to feel uneasy.

For instance, a fireman is a brave fellow! He fears nothing, least of all fire!

Well, the fireman in question, who had gone to make a round of inspection in the cellars and who, it seems, had ventured a little farther than usual, suddenly reappeared on the stage, pale, scared, trembling, with his eyes starting out of his head, and …

Surely, if his heart continued to make such a noise, they would hear it inside, they would open the door and the young man would be turned away in disgrace. What a position for a Chagny! To be caught listening behind a door!

He took his heart in his two hands to make it stop.

The man’s voice spoke again:

The man’s voice spoke again:

“Oh, tonight I gave you my soul and I am dead!” Christine replied.

“Your soul is a beautiful thing, child,” replied the grave man’s voice, “and I thank you. No emperor ever received so fair a gift. The angels wept tonight.”

Raoul heard nothing after that. Nevertheless, he did not go away, but, as though he feared lest he should be caught, he returned to his dark corner, determined to wait for the man to leave the room.

At one and the same time, he had learned what love meant, and hatred.

He knew that he loved. He wanted to know whom he hated. To his great astonishment, the door opened and Christine Daaé appeared, wrapped in furs, with her face hidden in a lace veil, alone.

Everybody remarked that the retiring managers looked cheerful, as is the Paris way.

None will ever be a true Parisian who has not learned to wear a mask of gaiety over his sorrows and one of sadness, boredom or indifference over his inward joy.

You know that one of your friends is in trouble; do not try to console him: he will tell you that he is already comforted; but, should he have met with good fortune, be careful how you congratulate him:

“You know as well as I do that she has the reputation of being quite good,” said Richard.

“Reputations are easily obtained,” replied Moncharmin. “Haven’t I a reputation for knowing all about music? And I don’t know one key from another.”

“Don’t be afraid: you never had that reputation,” Richard declared.

“Because I’m going to settle the account of anyone who has not seen him!” explained the manager. “

As he seems to be everywhere, I can’t have people telling me that they see him nowhere.

I like people to work for me when I employ them!”

It was quite evident from the manager’s attitude, that he either did not know or could not remember having met Mame Giry, nor even little Giry, nor even “little Meg!”

But Mame Giry’s pride was so great that the celebrated box-keeper imagined that everybody knew her.

“Never heard of her!” the manager declared. “But that’s no reason, Mame Giry, why I shouldn’t ask you what happened last night to make you and the inspector call in a municipal guard …”

She was unable to explain this phenomenon, which was not new to her, except by the intervention of the ghost.

Nobody could see the ghost in his box, but everybody could hear him.

She had often heard him; and they could believe her, for she always spoke the truth. They could ask M. Debienne and M. Poligny, and anybody who knew her; and also M. Isidore Saack, who had had a leg broken by the ghost!

“And, when the ghost speaks to you, what does he say?”

“Well, he tells me to bring him a footstool!”

This time, Richard burst out laughing, as did Moncharmin and Rémy, the secretary. Only the inspector, warned by experience, was careful not to laugh, while Mame Giry ventured to adopt an attitude that was positively threatening.

“And he takes his vermouth at Tortoni’s with Lagréné, Scholl and Pertuiset, the lion-hunter,” added Moncharmin. “We shall have the whole press against us! He’ll tell the story of the ghost; and everybody will be laughing at our expense!

We may as well be dead as ridiculous!

”

There was consternation on Carlotta’s face and consternation on the faces of all the audience. The two managers in their box could not suppress an exclamation of horror.

Everyone felt that the thing was not natural, that there was witchcraft behind it. That toad smelt of brimstone.

Poor, wretched, despairing, crushed Carlotta!

The two managers collapsed in their chairs and dared not even turn round; they had not the strength; the ghost was chuckling behind their backs! And, at last, they distinctly heard his voice in their right ears, the impossible voice, the mouthless voice, saying:

“She is singing tonight to bring the chandelier down!”

With one accord, they raised their eyes to the ceiling and uttered a terrible cry. The chandelier, the immense mass of the chandelier was slipping down, coming toward them, at the call of that fiendish voice.

With a lackluster eye, he stared down that cold, desolate road and into the pale, dead night.

Nothing was colder than his heart, nothing half so dead: he had loved an angel and now he despised a woman!

Raoul, how that little fairy of the North has trifled with you!

It was the prettiest game in the world and they enjoyed it like the children that they were. Oh, the wonderful speeches they made to each other and the eternal vows they exchanged!

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.

One day, about a week after the game began, Raoul’s heart was badly hurt and he stopped playing and uttered these wild words:

In the middle of the room was a canopy, from which hung curtains of red brocaded stuff, and, under the canopy, an open coffin. ‘That is where I sleep,’ said Erik. ‘

One has to get used to everything in life, even to eternity.

’ The sight upset me so much that I turned away my head.

“

Yes, Christine, when they love and are not sure of being loved.

”

“Aha!” he said. “Blood! … Blood! … Here, there, more blood! …

That’s a good thing! A ghost who bleeds is less dangerous!

” he grinned.

“

Backward! You have seen our managers walk backward? Why, I thought that only crabs walked backward!

”

… And now he is flying in pursuit of him! He is my chief auxiliary!

This, gentlemen, is the art of the police, which is believed to be so complicated and which, nevertheless, appears so simple as soon as you see that it consists in getting your work done by people who have nothing to do with the police.

”

“No, sir,” said the Persian sadly, “

I do not hate him. If I hated him, he would long ago have ceased doing harm.

”

“We shall do all that it is humanly possible to do! … But he may stop us at the first step! …

He commands the walls, the doors and the trapdoors.

In my country, he was known by a name which means the ‘trapdoor lover.’ ”

… It is terrible. … I myself would have been nearly killed there … if the monster had not recognized me in time! … One piece of advice, sir; never go near the lake. …

And, above all, shut your ears if you hear the voice singing under the water, the siren’s voice!

”

“How imprudent you are!” he said, as he stood before me, dripping with water. “Why try to enter my house? I never invited you! I don’t want you there, nor anybody! Did you save my life only to make it unbearable to me?

However great the service you rendered him, Erik may end by forgetting it; and you know that nothing can restrain Erik, not even Erik himself.

”

“What?” he retorted. “

You know I never keep my oaths. Oaths are made to catch gulls with.

”

And whenever some accident, some fatal event happened, I always thought to myself, “I should not be surprised if that were Erik,” even as others used to say, “It’s the ghost!” How often have I not heard people utter that phrase with a smile!

Poor devils! If they had known that the ghost existed in the flesh, I swear they would not have laughed!

Although Erik announced to me very solemnly that he had changed and that he had become the most virtuous of men since he was loved for himself—a sentence that, at first, perplexed me most terribly—I could not help shuddering when I thought of the monster.

When my cab set me down before the Opera, I was really almost astonished to see it still standing! But

I am something of a fatalist, like all good Orientals, and I entered ready for anything.

Christine Daaé’s abduction in the Prison Act, which naturally surprised everybody, found me prepared. I was quite certain that she had been juggled away by Erik, that prince of conjurers.

The little viscount is a brave fellow, but he knew hardly anything about his adversary; and it was so much the better. My great fear was that he was already somewhere near us, preparing the Punjab lasso.

No one knows better than he how to throw the Punjab lasso, for he is the king of stranglers even as he is the prince of conjurors.

When he had finished making the little sultana laugh, at the time of the “rosy hours of Mazenderan,” she herself used to ask him to amuse her by giving her a thrill. It was then that he introduced the sport of the Punjab lasso.

For we not only saw the water, but we heard it! … We heard it flow, we heard it ripple! … Do you understand that word “ripple?” …

It is a sound which you hear with your tongue!

… You put your tongue out of your mouth to listen to it better!

Ah, you should have seen us putting out our tongues and dragging ourselves toward the rippling riverbank!

Our eyes and ears were full of water, but our tongues were hard and dry as horn!

When we reached the mirror, M. de Chagny licked it … and I also licked the glass.

The monster had given her until eleven o’clock in the evening. He had chosen his time well. There would be many people, many “members of the human race,” up there, in the resplendent theater. What finer retinue could be expected for his funeral?

He would go down to the tomb escorted by the whitest shoulders in the world, decked with the richest jewels.

We were all to be blown up in the middle of the performance … if Christine Daaé said no!

… And he again laughed like a drunken demon and left me. Oh, his last words were, ‘The grasshopper! Be careful of the grasshopper!

A grasshopper does not only turn: it hops! It hops! And it hops jolly high!

’ ”

I open the little ebony caskets: mademoiselle, look at the little dears inside. Aren’t they pretty? If you turn the grasshopper, mademoiselle, we shall all be blown up.

There is enough gunpowder under our feet to blow up a whole quarter of Paris.

If you turn the scorpion, mademoiselle, all that powder will be soaked and drowned.

No one, no one in the next room, no one to turn the tap, no one to turn the scorpion!

We were all alone, in the dark, with the dark water that seized us and clasped us and froze us!

By this time, we had lost our foothold and were spinning round in the water, carried away by an irresistible whirl, for the water turned with us and dashed us against the dark mirror, which thrust us back again;