Hala A. Abbas

“He fills me with horror and I do not hate him. How can I hate him, Raoul? Think of Erik at my feet, in the house on the lake, underground. He accuses himself, he curses himself, he implores my forgiveness!...He confesses his cheat. He loves me! He lays at my feet an immense and tragic love. ... He has carried me off for love!...He has imprisoned me with him, underground, for love!...But he respects me: he crawls, he moans, he weeps!...And, when I stood up, Raoul, and told him that I could only despise him if he did not, then and there, give me my liberty...he offered it...he offered to show me the mysterious road...Only...only he rose too...and I was made to remember that, though he was not an angel, nor a ghost, nor a genius, he remained the voice...for he sang. And I listened ... and stayed!...That night, we did not exchange another word. He sang me to sleep.”
― Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera

“كل الأشياء الجميلة تنتهي! كل الأشياء الحزينة تنتهي!”
― عبد الوهاب المسيري, رحلتي الفكرية في البذور والجذور والثمر: سيرة غير ذاتية غير موضوعية

“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.”
― Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera

“في استعراضي للذين خذلوني في حياتي ..
أجد نفسي مضطرًا للاعتراف بأن أحداً لم يخذلني مثلي”
― محمد عفيفي