He said, 'You see, Christine, there is some music that is so terrible that it consumes all those who approach it.
Fortunately, you have not come to that music yet, for you would lose all your pretty coloring and nobody would know you when you returned to Paris.

Let us sing something from the Opera, Christine Daae.' He spoke these last words as though he were flinging an insult at me." "What did you do ?" "I had no time to think about the meaning he put into his words.

We at once began the duet in Othello and already the catastrophe was upon us.
I sang Desdemona with a despair, a terror which I had never displayed before.

As for him, his voice thundered forth his revengeful soul at every note.

Love, jealousy, hatred, burst out around us in harrowing cries.