The corps de ballet were already calling me "the Phantom of the Opera," an intriguing sobriquet which appealed to me very strongly, until I realized that it would mean signing my ransom notes P.T.O.
And yet, like Faust, I look in vain, I learn in vain. There is no knowledge beyond my comprehension, no art or skill upon this entire planet that lies beyond the mastery of my hand. My mind has touched the farthest horizons of mortal imagination and reaches ever outward to embrace infinity.hell is full of burning boats, did you know that, Nadir? I daresay that's what makes it so bloody hot.
For a moment I thought I knew exactly how Christ must have felt as He called John.Memories are like fireflies darting across the surface of my mind, showing me here and there images so sharp and vivid that I catch my breath in wonder before the vignette disappears, sinking like a pebble into the quicksand of regret and recrimination.Death was the ultimate power and I his eager, willing apprentice.I have often thought I would have been quite happy as a spider.I can make anything disappear, if I really want to.
Susan Kay (born 1952) is an English novelist.īased on the Gaston Leroux novel The Phantom of the Opera
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